Persona 3: Ascendancy
by steel0face6
Summary: Minato knows a war is coming. Despite the Diet's best efforts, Tatsumi Port Island will become the forefront of the next Japanese Civil War. But something dark is driving the Third Ascendancy's violent rampages through his city. And when his time comes, Minato will realize the true value of power. AU of P3. Enjoy!
1. Prologue

**Hey there, Reader!**

It's been a while, but I'm back!

There will definitely be returning fans who are fresh off my other story. If you haven't seen it yet, it's called Persona 3: Renegade Legends, a twist to P3 with a mostly OC cast. I finished the story earlier this year and hope to continue writing great stories as a continuing hobby. If all goes well, I can turn my talent into a profitable skill and teach readers everywhere that Satanic sorcery can save the world!

... Or I'll do just that but present it as something less inflammatory.

Anyways, this is the first story I've posted on this site in a while. I've been working on a completely new story (totally not fanfiction) that I started a few years ago and want to complete asap. I am aware that posting original work doesn't bode well for the author, since most readers on this site use the site to read works based on pre-established franchises.

So here's my proposal: I convert my story to Persona-esque terms, make it all tangible, and see how you like it.

I get that re-writing a story so dramatically may mitigate your enjoyment. So I'll be keeping a close eye on the reviews for this story. If it looks good to you all for the first seven chapters, then I'll keep posting. We'll see.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Prologue**

**Dreamscape: Unknown time**

The dry air blasted him in the face.

All around the boy, desert sands churned and shifted. Dust devils migrated as far as he could see. In all directions, a lone cactus just barely over the horizon was the only sign of life. This was the Wasteland, a desert that occupied thirty percent of the continent's landmass. And this was not the first time he found himself in this place.

_Where do you think you're going? _asked a voice.

He looked around. No one other than himself was within eyesight.

_I said, where do you think you're going?_

"I don't know," he said, just like he did in every other dream that resembled this one.

_Feeling thirsty?_

The boy then realized that his throat was parched. This was also part of the recurring dream.

_How about some water?_

As in every other dream, a pool of water appeared in front of the boy. Craving the very substance, the boy knelt to his knees and used his hands to scoop up the liquid essence of life. He greedily slurped the water from his palms.

_How about you wash your face?_

The boy then bent his head lower and saw his reflection in the water. He paused as soon as he saw the face staring back at his own.

What happened next was entirely new: Staring back at the boy was the face of a monster.

It had blue slits and LED bulbs where the boy's eyes should have been. Metal plating was grooved and cut where his skin should have been. Rows of shark's teeth were planted over the boy's jaw line. Instead of hair, there were only pistons, which emitted a blue glow and protruded out of the ends of his skull. What was worse, the face was looking right at him.

_Not what you expected now, was it?_

The boy stumbled backward, recoiling from the monstrous face. Though he had not satisfied his thirst, he bolted in the opposite direction, as far away from the freak as possible. He ran, feeling fatigue set into his body. First, his lungs burned, then his legs ached, and then his side further restricted his breathing. The boy had to stop running.

He turned around to see if anything was following him. Nothing was there.

He turned around once more. The beast was towering in front of him.

The boy then stumbled back, this time tripping over himself. The monster's features were even more horrendous up close. The beast stood with a permanent slouch in its back, the upper portion of its spine in a hunched position. It had metallic plating around its body, save for the areas where its joints needed to move. Its legs were shaped like that of a wolf, and it was standing on the balls of its feet and hunching over to maintain balance. But its arms, long claws covered in metal and blood, definitely showed that it was predatory.

_You can't run from fate._

The monster then reached behind itself and produced a large sword, the length of the boy's body.

"What fate?" the boy exclaimed.

_You must choose to exist or serve. Choose poorly, and you'll be dead before you know it._

The monster raised his blade.

_Father would be most disappointed . . ._


	2. Chapter 1: Rebirth

**Hey there, Reader!**

(This is a repeat of the AN from the last update. I know you guys love skipping these!)

It's been a while, but I'm back!

There will definitely be returning fans who are fresh off my other story. If you haven't seen it yet, it's called Persona 3: Renegade Legends, a twist to P3 with a mostly OC cast. I finished the story earlier this year and hope to continue writing great stories as a continuing hobby. If all goes well, I can turn my talent into a profitable skill and teach readers everywhere that Satanic sorcery can save the world!

... Or I'll do just that but present it as something less inflammatory.

Anyways, this is the first story I've posted on this site in a while. I've been working on a completely new story (totally not fanfiction) that I started a few years ago and want to complete asap. I am aware that posting original work doesn't bode well for the author, since most readers on this site use the site to read works based on pre-established franchises.

So here's my proposal: I convert my story to Persona-esque terms, make it all tangible, and see how you like it.

I get that re-writing a story so dramatically may mitigate your enjoyment. So I'll be keeping a close eye on the reviews for this story. If it looks good to you all for the first seven chapters, then I'll keep posting. We'll see.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 1 Rebirth**

**Uptown Port Island: 6:45 AM**

The heat was the first sensation.

Sure enough, the boy who called himself Minato woke up.

He took a deep breath, involuntarily inhaling the dust from his bed. It was then that the boy coughed heavily and stumbled out of his bed. He rubbed the sand out of his eyes, and his cheap apartment became visible.

The apartment was nothing special. Just like every other structure in the building, it had a wide room. Wooden floorboards composed both the floor and the walls. Metal rafters sprouted from the walls, adding support to the rough ceiling. As if that was not enough, irregular holes made from years of rodent infestations littered the ceiling, which might have been considered a health hazard by some, provided they cared.

The heat was caused by the closed windows. If he had more money, he could have afforded an apartment with regulated air conditioning. Perhaps then he wouldn't have to swim in his own sweat during the warm seasons. For now he would have to deal with dense glass windows, which were streaming in blazing beams of sunlight.

_Another dream,_ the boy thought to himself. _What the hell was that about?_

He then turned to the cleanest object in the room: his bathroom mirror. He walked over and looked at it to see how bad his face looked in the morning. Minato's electric blue eyes still had that, well, electric aura they always had. Minato felt his chin. The same millimeter of fuzz was still there, dotted with hairs of black and white.

No matter how he tried to style it otherwise, Minato's black and white hair always remained up or pulled back. There were two indents only noticeable at a close inspection. Triangular indents, almost gaudy at first glance, were permanently embedded into Minato's skull. Even he didn't know where they came from. Thankfully no one important enough bothered to ask what they were.

Somewhat satisfied with his appearance, he used his fingers to comb his hair. He then turned around and immediately allowed his body to lazily lean forward and fall to the ground. If anyone else was watching, that person would have instantly panicked. Almost before impact, he brought his hands forward to break his fall. Immediately, he broke into a fast set of push-ups.

After five minutes of push-ups, he progressed to clapping push-ups. After that, he moved on to the other exercises he usually did in the morning. Spanning almost a half hour, his exercises ranged from pull-ups on his doorway to upside down sit-ups from his ceiling. Even the professional athlete would have been impressed. After some time, there was a knock on the door.

_The usual routine,_ he thought to himself.

Minato was on sit-up 38 when he heard the first knock. He sat up one more time and gripped the metal rafter that he had hooked his legs onto. With a dull thud, he landed feet first onto the wooden boards and made his way to the front door. Even before he opened it, he knew who it was. He opened the door.

"Morning, Minato!"

Minato looked straight into the face of his visitor. "Uh, morning, Yukari."

Yukari Takeba's appearance was unorthodox and quirky. Her hair was shoulder length and dyed bronze gold tipped with black. Her hair was pinned to the side of her head with a golden pin and a cartoonish cat head. Light powder and subtle eyeliner further radiated the girl's cheery aura. The dampening factor to her adorability was the crimson Gekkokan Academy uniform she wore.

Yukari wasn't much of a debater or a fighter. She found herself in the middle of conflicts and often without an argument or agenda of her own. Her parents were full time lawyers, but neither had the time or opportunity to allow their prestige to rub off on their daughter. They were often so busy that they left her to her own devices with a meager weekly allowance and three square meals a day.

Contrary to her parents, Yukari was more a pacifist. Years of living by herself grew no ill intent to her parents or anyone else. Instead of becoming a lawyer, she often hinted of becoming a teacher or a doctor, occupations that didn't require debating or arguing with the people around her.

Most of the thoughts on her mind were of her future or her next talk with any of her parents. She never really mentioned it, but Minato knew that her mind often wandered to that subject. She tried to keep herself presentable at all times. In its own regard, that was a good thing.

As she was, Minato thought she was kind of cute. He felt some part of himself flutter madly as he registered every detail on Yukari's face. There was matching powder, faint blush, and subtle eyeliner to enhance her amber brown eyes. Did she always dress like this or was it jut today? What was the occasion? It was then that Minato remembered what seemed to be missing that morning. He slapped his forehead with his palm.

"Crap, what day is it?" he asked.

"Friday," said Yukari. "Working out already?"

Minato looked down at his shirt. It was then that he realized that he did his entire workout in his pajamas. He looked at Yukari awkwardly.

"Um, hold on a sec."

Roughly five minutes later, he emerged from his apartment with his academy uniform untidily thrown on. His collar was a mess and his tie loosely tightened. Minato almost felt embarrassed in front of Yukari, but he knew time would not permit him to grieve before school.

"How do I look?" he asked his neighbor.

Yukari playfully appeared as though she was in deep thought. Those hypnotizing eyes playfully glazed over every detail of his attire. "Horrible," she replied in a fake Kansai accent. "You look like you've been to hell and back. Ever heard of a shower?"

Minato checked his hair. Half of it still clung to his face with sweat.

_The usual routine. _He shrugged as he fixed his hair back into place. "Let's go."

The two students started walking swiftly down the hallway to the elevator. The halls of the apartment building were starting to awaken. Behind various doors, the noises of husbands stuffing down their breakfast were very evident, along with their children's cries. The blaring sounds of hologram sets were also evident, accompanied by lights streaming from under doorways. The apartment complex's residents were coming to life.

After no more than a few seconds, the two reached the already opened elevator. Both stepped inside. It was completely empty before they arrived. Before them, a large screen displayed the layout of the building's floors, revealing icons that enabled passengers to select various floors.

"Would you like to do the honors?" Yukari asked as the two of them stepped into the elevator.

"Sure," replied the boy, pressing the icon for the lobby. A moment's hesitation passed before the elevator doors started closing. _So far so good, _he thought.

"Wait up!" shouted a voice from across the hall.

Minato and Yukari already knew who was coming. Just as always, Minato inserted his hand between the doors. Motion sensors built into the interior of the door immediately responded to the movement. The doors slid back open.

The new passenger caught up and dashed into the elevator. Unlike Yukari, the new girl had layered hair untidy and tangled in knots. Her uniform looked messier than usual, her bow at a slant and her shirt partially untucked. Perhaps a lack of sleep from working overtime last night?

Fuuka Yamagishi wore a thin leather choker around her neck. It was customary to have this accessory, even if her family moved into a new country. The choker was worn by all pre-marital members of her family like a sign of innocence. The thing attracted albeit too much attention from the wrong elements, but it just showed how the passenger held to her beliefs.

"One, word, Minato," Fuuka panted between breaths. "One word and you're dead."

"Sure," said Minato, pressing the lobby icon again. "You know there's a saying. 'Early to bed and early to rise-"

"I know, Minato!" said Fuuka. "It's like this every morning with you! And I've heard it a million times!"

"I guess you never caught on, Fuuka," said Yukari with a giggle. "If you're always sleeping late, it's no wonder you're so frustrated."

Fuuka groaned. "Cut me some slack, guys!"

There was no point arguing with her, though Minato found some fun in it. Fuuka worked part time in the plumbing business. Her family didn't own the business they worked for, but each able member constituted its most reliable workforce. Most of Fuuka's time was occupied with earning a living and earning the food on her plate. Minato made the mistake of asking what she did for fun and earned a splash of water in the face.

The elevator doors closed, and the elevator made its descent. Fuuka gradually caught her breath and stood up straight.

_Late as usual, _Minato thought, _the usual routine._

"How did you sleep though?" asked Yukari.

"Terrible," Fuuka replied. "Couldn't sleep with my neighbors making racket right above my room."

Minato faintly remembered loud music resonating from two floors above his room. Even he did not slept well.

"Hey Minato, did you sleep well?"

Minato pulled his head out of the clouds and realized that Yukari was asking him a question. "Um, I guess so."

It was then that the party of three arrived at the lobby. As the elevator doors opened, the familiar open area was revealed. At that time of day, few people were moving around. The dirty floor showed signs of once being waxed until one could see oneself. The ceiling had numerous patches on it, most likely to look more inviting. Sitting at the front desk was the same man who'd been there for the past few years, Mr. Scott.

"Off to school today?" he asked with a smile from behind the desk.

"Yep!" Yukari replied. "Have a nice day, Mr. Scott!" The three academy students then exited the glass doors and stepped out into Port Island.

Everyone around them was either walking on land or flying a hover car in the air. On the walkways both suspended in the air and attached to the ground, some people were talking on their cell phones; others were just rushing from place to place with some job they had to do. Up in the air, skyscrapers with gigantic plasma television screens towered over everyone on the ground. Hover cars darted this way and that, making the city seem even livelier than it already was.

As the three students exited their apartment building, a news broadcast was being played for the general public. Minato, Yukari, and Fuuka stopped and watched it. At that moment, a woman with an abnormally glossy smile was giving the day's report.

". . . Crime rate increase due to the Third Ascendancy pep rally three months earlier. This is a significant increase in numbers since the first appearance of the anti-establishment group 15 years ago when they made their first public acts of treason. Numerous criminals in the name of former Lord Petrellix have led revolts against the government. Popular culture has dubbed these followers of the Third Ascendancy as "Thirds." Local authorities are having difficulty dealing with new uprisings. In addition, the Third Ascendancy appears to have elected a new leader. Who this leader is and what he looks like, local authorities are still investigating. Authorities also believe that the leader is extremely elusive, as well as intelligent. The bombing in South Block Port Island is also likely to be caused by . . ."

Minato cringed. _Crime and suffering, death every minute. Just the usual routine._

Fuuka looked at her busted-up wristwatch. "Crap! We're gonna miss the bus!"

"Dammit!" Minato snapped out of his trance and started breaking into a full-out sprint for the bus stop.

"Wait up!" exclaimed the two girls, attempting to catch up.

Fuuka ran ahead and entered the bus. Yukari was short of breath and began to slow down. Minato barely managed to look back before leaving her behind. Even though Yukari ran as fast as she could, she was too far from the bus stop. The bus flashed its warning lights and began to leave.

"You can't be this out of shape," said Minato.

"Oh shut up!" Yukari gasped. "I'm not going to make it!"

Quite literally, Yukari found herself swept off her feet. Minato ran over and cradled her bridal-style and made a mad dash for the bus stop.

"Yes we can!" Minato grunted.

Fortunately, the bus driver found the sight amazing enough to stop the bus. Minato continued to carry Yukari up the bus steps and through the aisles of the bus.

The bus driver then glanced at Minato. "All aboard?" the driver asked.

"Yep," said Minato, too winded to give a compete answer. He set Yukari down.

"Uh, thanks," said Yukari. "But you didn't have to carry me like that."

"Can you blame me?" asked Minato. "We would have been late otherwise."

Yukari's cheeks reddened. "It's embarrassing in front of everyone," she said.

"Guys?" said Fuuka. "We should find seats."

As the door shut behind them, the three latecomers made their way to the back of the bus. The Gekkokan Academy bus was packed as always with rowdy students who could not wait for the school year to end. Dotting the seats of the bus were the same general groups: the gossipers seated in larger quantities; the jocks seated at the back of the bus to catch some smokes; and the wannabe marksmen who were all bunched up together at the front of the bus, making mocking sounds of gunfire at the three new passengers on the bus.

Eventually, the three made their way through the bus rows and found an empty row of seats. After they were all comfortable, the bus engine flared and started to levitate off the ground. The bus was on its way to the Gekkokan Academy.

"I lied earlier," said Fuuka.

"About what?" asked Minato.

"The thing with the loud music?" said Fuuka. "I didn't stay up late because of that."

"What was it?" asked Yukari.

"I got into a long fight with my boyfriend," said Fuuka. She bit her bottom lip. "I think he's breaking up with me."

"You mean Ken?" asked Minato. "But you two got along just fine!"

"I don't know what his problem is," said Fuuka. "Ted's just avoiding talking about stuff when we talk. I tell him how my day went, but he just shuts up and never replies to whatever I say. He just changes the subject just to avoid talking to me."

"Wasn't his house roughed up by Thirds?" asked Minato.

"Yeah, it was," said Fuuka. "I thought I'd be able to talk it through with him, maybe a few words of encouragement and all that. But he won't let me help him!"

"Why his home?" asked Minato.

"I think Ken got singled out by some Thirds on the street when he bumped into them," said Yukari. "That's how they choose victims to terrorize. Average Joes selected for totally random acts of violence."

"That's stupid," said Minato.

"Understatement of the century," said Fuuka with a scoff.

Minato's thoughts drifted to the news from earlier that morning. The Third Ascendancy, popularly called Thirds, is Port Island's extremist fraction, who are fighting for control of the city and the return of previous regime. They started off as small bands of former government officials and mercenaries twenty years ago. As time progressed, they gathered more and more advocates willing to kill, advocates like terrorists, thieves, smugglers, murders, and all other sorts of hardened criminals undesirable by the state. That morning's event wasn't the first serious attack they launched. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

The Thirds struck viciously, using death and intimidation to mark their territory. In the early years, the police weren't fast enough to stop the Thirds' conquest of the city. By the time enough force was mustered to counter them, the Thirds became intelligent enough to elude capture. They owned half the city now, terrorizing civilians and destroying the city state in the name of their justice.

Minato hated the Third Ascendancy from the bottom of his heart. They took what they wanted, hurt and killed anyone who would dare stand in their way. They claimed justice, their actions said otherwise. He wanted to wrangle their leader dry, dry enough to squeal and to kill his gang of savages. Minato believed this from the bottom of his heart, but. . .

_I'm not a hero, _he thought to himself. _I can't stop them from causing crime and suffering. Just the usual routine._

"Maybe he wants alone time," said Yukari. "I heard his mom got hospitalized."

The bus passed through the third intersection on this route, and soon they would reach their destination. Hordes of students were already filing into Gekkokan Academy. Fuuka pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. She was barely holding back a downpour of emotions, and given that she was on a public bus, she couldn't express herself too much in front of so many strangers. Her friends looked back at her and to each other.

Yukari eyed Minato. "Anything?" she mouthed silently.

Minato then patted Fuuka on the shoulder. "Did he say he was breaking up with you?" he asked.

"No," said Fuuka with a sniffle. "He didn't sound too happy to talk to me though."

"Did he say anything mean to you?"

"No. He's just being distant."

"I'll say the obvious," said Minato. "You're over-thinking it. Give the guy time to mull over his thoughts and come back to you with a better attitude."

"That is the worst advice I've heard from you," said Fuuka.

"It was," said Yukari.

"I wasn't finished," said Minato. "This incident wasn't his fault, but how he's acting is influenced by how he feels about the incident. I'm not supposed to judge him for how he grieves, but if he locks himself away because he doesn't anyone else to see him suffering, then that's his problem. Just offer help when you can, but back off when Ted refuses."

"Am I supposed to be indifferent?" asked Fuuka.

"I'm saying this as your friend," said Minato. He put a hand to his heart. "You're a great girl, and you mean well. But not everyone deserves you. Just prepare to actually break up if he won't accept your feelings."

The bus chugged forward. Gekkokan Academy's tall buildings peered over the cityscape horizon. Fuuka took a few minutes to let Minato's words sink in.

"It's weird how you do that," said Fuuka. "You're the meanest guy I know…"

Minato rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks," he said.

"But you also know exactly what to say too," said Fuuka. She smiled politely. "So thanks."

Minato smiled back. As the bus began to slow down to park, the other students prepared to file out of the vehicle. Yukari looked back at her friends and started to leave. The three shrugged off their worries of inner-city turmoil and high school drama and walked to class. All that mattered for the moment was the everyday struggle for classes and an uncertain future.

The usual routine.


	3. Chapter 2: Awakening

**Hey there, Reader!**

The strangest thing happened to my computer today.

Malware completely rendered my computer unable to access the internet D:

It's fixed btw. So glad that's over.

Again, this is the first story I've posted on this site in a while. I've been working on a completely new story (totally not fanfiction) that I started a few years ago and want to complete asap. I am aware that posting original work doesn't bode well for the author, since most readers on this site use the site to read works based on pre-established franchises.

So here's my proposal: I convert my story to Persona-esque terms, make it all tangible, and see how you like it.I get that re-writing a story so dramatically may mitigate your enjoyment. So I'll be keeping a close eye on the reviews for this story. If it looks good to you all for the first seven chapters, then I'll keep posting. We'll see.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 2 Anomalies**

**GEKKOKAN Academy, 6th period: 1:33 PM**

History sessions were always Minato's weak point.

The classroom was shaped like an amphitheater. Each row was stacked one above the other, curved for each person in a seat to be able to see the front of the room perfectly. This setup was all the more reason for Minato to dread the period. He would have no excuse for not understanding the topic.

Minato kept thinking of the conversation earlier with Fuuka. She seemed so heartbroken over her boyfriend, yet so eager for advice from him. Minato was happy to help, but he wasn't sure if he was the right guy to consult for relationship problems. Not to mention all this talk about love and miscommunication was happening right next to Yukari.

_Hope that doesn't come to bite me in the ass, _Minato thought to himself. _Yukari will understand, right?_

Something moved in the corner of his eye. He looked to his right. Yukari sat right next to him writing in her digital ComBook notebook. This was odd: Fuuka rarely took notes in class. She lifted it for only Minato to see.

On a glass-like panel, which was bordered by metal framing and some of the latest light-sensor technology, was a message inscribed into arranged photons to resemble Yukari's familiar, messy writing.

**How are you coping?**

As Minato was reading, the history professor was still in the middle of his lecture.

". . . Ended the Great Colossian-Era War. Right after the war ended, the Colossian Antiwar Revolts started. The riots were caused by miserable Colossians who were suffering in the aftermath caused by the previous war . . . "

Minato then picked up his own digital notebook and stylus and started writing a message. After he was done, he showed it to Yukari.

**Bored out of my mind.**

"The last monarch, King Hannibal, was blamed for going to war with Era and causing mass poverty across the entire city-state. He was later driven out of Colossus and his parliament dissolved, ending what we know as the First Ascendancy. In different favor, an executive of E. Co Industries, Carmen Petrellix, was elected as the next leader and Lord of the Second Ascendancy, Colossus' first democratically elected senate and government . . . "

Yukari scribbled another response. **Any plans after school?**

"Only a few years after his election, Lord Petrellix started making doctrines and amendments to the Colossian doctrine that abolished the Second Ascendancy and established an initially popular doctorial regime centered around himself. . . "

**Nope. You?**

"Unknown to most of the people of the time, Petrellix was not a man of integrity. He used propaganda to keep the people of Colossus unaware of his outside plans. Outside the walls of Colossus, he waged war with Era once more to compensate for their loss in the previous war . . . "

**Heard of Sim-Dec?**

Now that he thought about it, Minato had heard of Sim-Dec. It opened a few months earlier. Virtual simulations were possible inside. Minato knew that, but Sim-Dec was a public building, and anyone was allowed to enter the virtual reality for a reasonable price.

Minato also heard it was fun depending on which environment the customer chose (or could afford). Never before had he tried to enter it.

"No one is quite sure of his motives. Most historians say it was a personal vendetta originating from his childhood. Others just say he was plain insane . . . "

**Sure, where and when do we meet?**

"Whatever the case, his acts were atrocious. He embezzled money from the Colossian financial surplus to fuel E. Co's military weaponry research and development. Today we ironically refer to his government as the Third Ascendancy because of the puppet senate that he used to justify his authority. . . "

**Front gate, flagpole, right after class.**

"The Third Ascendancy that we hear in the news today is different, they claim to be the true successors of his oppressive regime . . . "

It was then that the familiar tone rang throughout the Gekkokan Academy complex. The sound instantly meant one thing to every student: School was over.

Instantly, all of the academy students packed their bags and started making their way through the door. Without a moment's hesitation, Minato packed his bag and made his way out of the classroom along with his classmates.

_I guess she's okay with it, _Minato chimed to himself.

* * *

**Sim-Dec Building, downtown colossus: 3:00 PM**

The Sim-Dec building was as unique in business as it was in architecture. The architects found it fitting that a new business was outfitted with the most unique structure. As Fuuka and Minato strolled up to the building, they saw for themselves how breathtaking the Sim-Dec building was.

It appeared to be comprised of numerous metal arches and X-shaped supports. Along the lower level of the building were numerous arches. Only one of these arches hung over a large glass doorway leading into the building. The top of the building was in the shape of a dome, outfitted with solar-cell panels and metal braces supporting each panel in an X shape. From above, the building seemed as though it held immeasurable potential. According to highly-renowned critics, it did.

Luckily, right after school was the best time for anyone to enter the Sim-Dec building. Popularity had soared to the point where dozens of Colossians could usually be found lined up outside the front door. However, after school there was not the usual line.

As they approached the building, Minato wondered what Fuuka would think once she realized that the two of them had gone off to Sim-Dec without her. Then Minato's thoughts drifted to another question.

"Any environment in mind?"

Yukari appeared to have brighter spirits then her friend. "I do!"

"What is it?" Minato asked.

Yukari made a taunting gesture. "You'll see ."

Within a few minutes, the two were at the front desk of the Sim-Dec building. "How many in your party?" asked a female attendant behind the desk.

"Two," said Yukari. "Would there be a discount for being academy students?"

The attendant smiled as she replied. "Of course. Which environment would you two like to simulate?"

"Simulation 86 please."

The attendant typed a series of buttons on her touch-screen computer keyboard behind the desk. "While you are in the simulation, we kindly ask to hold onto your luggage for safekeeping until your simulation is over."

With brief shrugs to each other, they did so, and then their baggage was filed into small cubicles for safekeeping. The two students were briefly introduced to their guide and were led down a circular hall.

The hall itself was similar to the building's exterior: Metal arches supported the ceiling, which was tiled with solar panels. Why solar panels were installed indoors was beyond any of the two students. And then they saw the main chamber.

The main chamber of the Sim-Dec building was the most unique section. Spiraling downward, carpeted rows of large, metal pods were evenly planted next to one another. Along each row were Colossians both coming and going into these pods. Occupied pods illuminated red light, whereas unoccupied pods illuminated green light.

The guide led the two students down to two unoccupied pods. She then pressed a button on a device attached to her wrist, and the lids on the pods lifted for their new occupants.

"Enjoy your simulation," said the guide with a smile.

Both students gave their thanks and settled themselves into a pod. Minato found himself comfortable in the chrome, commercial-use pod. What he found most amazing was the fact that it seemed to be perfectly accommodated to the build of his body. He relaxed as the lid of his pod came down.

"Please relax as your simulation plays," said a computerized voice.

Minato did so, and as if dreaming a perfect dream, he was sent into a trance.

The perfect dream for the unpredictable nightmare.

* * *

**Sim-Dec, simulation 86: 3:23 PM**

The warm breeze was the first sensation.

Minato blinked his eyes and then realized that he was standing on his own two feet, no longer lying down inside the pod. He also realized that he was no longer in his Gekkokan Academy uniform but rather in boarding trunks and a tropical islander's shirt. Surrounding him was the wooden deck of a cruise ship, an old one by the look of it.

The deck of the ship appeared to be empty except for Minato. Empty white sunbathing chairs were lined perfectly next to one another, sitting under large canvas umbrellas. The deck was devoid of any ship passengers out for a stroll. All that seemed to keep Minato company was the warm orange sunset and the open sea.

"Glad you could make it."

Minato turned to face the speaker. Yukari was facing him, her back facing the bow of the ship. She was no longer wearing the academy uniform. Instead, she appeared in a simple white blouse with a long, straw hat embroidered with blue roses. The leather choker was still around her neck, but it further added to her alluring aura.

Minato was baffled. "You look great," he stuttered.

Yukari's smile widened. "You too." She held her hand out to Minato. He accepted it.

She led him to the ship's stern, which was miraculously pointed into the sunset. Once the two were standing at the end of the deck, Minato realized that the entire ocean shimmered with millions of ambers before them. The breeze was warmed by the pouring sunlight causing the atmosphere to be more inviting.

"Like the simulation?" asked Yukari.

"Awesome," replied Minato, still letting the scenery sink into his mind for a minute―every sight, every sound, and every feeling of that moment. Who knew when he would have this sort of scene again?

"I think you did a good job this morning," said Yukari.

"With what?" asked Minato.

"The pep talk for Fuuka," said Yukari. "I think that was sweet of you. Though I get the feeling you like her."

"It's not like that," said Minato. "Fuuka didn't know what to do. She just needed a push in the right direction."

"I'm serious though," said Yukari. She leaned against the rail. "Do you like Fuuka?"

Minato shifted in place. As comfortable as he was in this virtual place, he wasn't so much with talking about girls. Especially when the girl he _definitely _liked was alone with him. Minato felt his heart beat faster and faster. Perhaps his face was becoming redder? Minato hoped that his insecurity wasn't showing. Though he had to wonder a very strange question: Did Yukari feel the same about him?

"W-well, I like Fuuka as a friend," Minato said sheepishly. "And I'm not going rosy-eyed for just anyone."

"So there is someone you like?" asked Yukari. "Who?"

Minato laughed nervously. "This is kind of awkward to ask on a ship, isn't it?" he asked. His heart pounded faster.

Yukari grinned. "But we're not on a ship, are we?"

Minato sucked in a deep breath. "Yeah," he said slowly. "There is someone I like. And she's in the same class as me."

"Can I guess who?" asked Yukari.

Minato shrugged his shoulders. "Go for it."

Yukari left the railing and stepped around. Minato then felt something wrap around his chest and neck. He found Yukari's face brushed up against his. Minato's face felt as though it caught on fire. It was not because of the sun.

"Too close for you?" Yukari asked.

Within the recess of the boy's mind, something seemed to light. What was this feeling? Had he felt this before? That couldn't be, this was the first time he was in this sort of place. He shrugged it off. It wasn't important now.

Minato returned a smile. "Not at all."

Yukari gave him a devious look and then released her hands from Minato. For a split second, Yukari's appearance morphed into someone else's. Her hair became long and dark, and the summer attire became something light and ethereal. Minato almost called her by a different name, but the name barely came off the tip of his tongue before he realized he had no idea who he just say. Minato turned around to offer Yukari a more gentlemen-like gesture, and then she was not behind him anymore.

"Yukari?" he asked.

No one answered. Instead, the simulation changed. The wind grew cold and blew in the opposite direction. The sun fell behind a black cloud, and its rays were completely blocked. No moon appeared from behind the darkening sky, and no stars dotted the blackened atmosphere.

And then the deck disappeared from right underneath Minato's feet.

That very instant, the boy found himself in a helpless drop. If there were words to describe his immediate descent, they would have been along the lines of _hellish _and _nightmare_.

He had no feeling in his limbs. His sight was obscured by the darkness. His ears did not rush with the sound of wind rushing as they would have normally. The only sense that did not betray his mind was the gut feeling of falling down to certain doom.

And then something caught him . . . by the neck.

The gut feeling lurched as his body, bizarre as it was, jerked upright. Whatever weight was still pulling him to the ground was still doing so. The force that caught him had a mighty grip. Minato could feel its fingers piercing into his skin as its grip tightened. He tried to pry it off. It only held on tighter.

The darkness was absolute along with the figure. Devoid of any light to identify it, Minato was almost certain that strangling was judgment for whatever sins he had committed. When he was sure that no more air would enter his lungs, the force pulled him extremely close, and then a voice, much like the noise of metal scraping on asphalt, hissed into his face.

"The dream must end."

The force then released its grip, sending Minato tumbling through the darkness once again. The only difference from the first half of his hell was that he actually fell into the black sea this time. Completely disregarding the laws of buoyancy, he kept sinking.

However, the other laws of physics still applied. As Minato sank, the pressure of the water increased. The lower he sank, the more pressure was applied to his body.

All he could think about was pain-endless pain for what was likely to be the rest of his soul's existence. He could already feel the water seeping into his mouth, which screamed for air. His eyes and ears burned with the pressure of the saltwater. Minato's bones felt as if they would be crushed last after everything else in his body crumbled into fish food.

Only one thought truly crossed his mind.

_I'm in hell._

* * *

**Unknown place: Unknown time**

The feeling stopped. All of the pressure faded from Minato's body, along with the pains on his senses. There was no more burning of his eyes, no more water filling his lungs, and no more gut-wrenching feelings of falling.

Minato's real eyes opened, along with his real mouth. He then used it to scream. The screaming did not stop for a full minute.

After he finally lost his breath, along with his voice, he used his eyes to look around to see if anyone was watching his panic and hysteria.

There was no one around him. He was no longer inside one of the Sim-Dec pods but rather on a metal-framed medical cot. There were no Sim-Dec pods around him and no Sim-Dec building in sight. Instead, other medical cots with white sheets covering their contents were systematically positioned around him.

Minato registered the environment around him. He then realized that he was in a morgue.

Minato did not know what to think or do.

The room around him, illuminated by dim ceiling lighting, was painted a sickly green in contrast to the inviting room he was in before. The smell of antiseptic stung his nostrils. Minato looked at his bare toe, which had a small, paper tag tied to it. It was then that he knew where he was.

He realized that he was sitting upright on the medical cot, wearing what appeared to be a medical tunic. Surrounding him were metal cots with white sheets draped over them, most likely holding corpses. He got off the cot and then realized the room he was in had a heavy door leading to who knows where. He tried to open it, but from his futile attempts, the door appeared to be locked.

Approximately a minute later, something like microphone feedback sounded in Minato's ears. He clenched his ears in an attempt to block the sound. Whatever this new sound was, it was still piercing his skull. The pain was almost unbearable, and Minato barely stifled a scream. As he tightened his hands around his head, he felt a large bump just behind his ear. He felt it. There was a radio dial installed to his head.

"The hell?" he muttered.

Minato frantically turned the dial in hopes that it would help. The shrill sound of feedback increased, then decreased in severity as Minato kept turning the dial. After some more fine-tweaking, the sound became mute enough for him to think straight. Minato felt beads of cold sweat dotting his forehead. As quickly as it started, the noise stopped abruptly, and then the vision in Minato's left eye blacked out.

_Am I blind?_

Almost as if to answer his question, the vision in his left eye returned, but it saw something different than the sickly green walls of the morgue. In contrast to the darkness, a face emerged.

Its features were hideous. The face's skin was grafted with metal. Its skull shape resembled that of an insect and a predator. Where its eyes should have been were numerous red dots wrapping around its head and up around its forehead. The most astounding feature were its teeth, which were sharpened and appeared to be made of shiny, metallic chrome. It spoke.

"If you're listening to this, don't respond just yet," it said in an awfully similar voice to Minato's.

Minato did not even think about responding. Instead, he just focused on the new face.

"Love to explain why you're seeing this, but whatever reason you're listening to this isn't good. Consider these instructions for your survival. First instruction: Determine where you are."

Minato already knew the answer. He was in a morgue with a bunch of dead people.

"Next, do you see any cameras? Smoke alarms? Any sort of security devices?"

Minato examined the room again. Aside from the objects he had noticed before the face appeared, he saw a smoke detector in the middle of the ceiling. There was also a small sprinkler system with little sprinklers strategically placed in the ceiling for covering the most space.

"If there are any cameras, smash them. From what you can see, if there's nothing to detect your movement, find some metal."

Minato almost gave the face a quizzical look with his eyebrow.

"Have you found any sort of metal around you? Doesn't have to be completely metal. It just has to have metal in it."

Minato then remembered his cot was framed with metal.

"If you have the metal, then grip it firmly with your hand."

Curiously, Minato knelt down and with his left hand gripped a leg of the medical cot he had laid on only a minute before.

"Once you have gripped it, squeeze it hard. When you do, you'll feel something odd. Don't let go."

Minato hesitated and then obeyed. Suddenly, he felt something like fluid flush through his arm. Insane as it was bizarre, the leg then crumpled like paper and started compacting itself into Minato's hand. He almost let go right then, but some overpowering force was making his hand remain still.

Strangely enough, it felt like water being poured onto his hand.

_Active Armor engaged, _Minato thought to himself. _Wait, what?!_

The process finally stopped once all of the metal was compacted. When the metal had been ripped away, what remained were a few plastic wheels and the cot itself, which flopped to the ground without anything to hold it up. Minato hesitated to examine his hand, imagining how grotesque it would look. Still, he forced himself to look.

Just as bizarre as the compacting metal, his hand had been replaced by what appeared to be the appendage of a mechanical demon's hand. Outfitted with talons, as well as black-tempered steel-like skin, Minato's new hand appeared to have jumped right out of a horror movie.

"Now was that so bad?"

As if the face could see him, Minato shook his head. He was at a loss for words, but his mind still had many unanswered questions.

"Time is of the essence. Do you see a door around you? If you do, walk up to it."

Minato then remembered the locked door. Having seen enough miracles for a lifetime, he obeyed without question.

"Hold up whichever hand you used to grip the metal."

Minato did so.

"Make a fist so that your middle finger and ring finger are digging into your palm."

Hesitantly, Minato did. The fluid feeling in his arm returned, and his arm started transforming. Before he could blink, his hand extended itself. His middle and ring fingers got wider and wider, and his other fingers got smaller and smaller. His forearm elongated and became thicker and thicker. When the sudden process was over, Minato realized what had happened.

Replacing his left hand was the barrel of what should have been on a military tank.

"Congratulations, that's your first morph in months."

Minato was at a loss for words, along with breath.. He observed what his hand was now. His fingers were replaced by the muzzle of a tank cannon. Where his forearm met with his upper arm, there was a reaction chamber. It was loaded with a cartridge made of the metal he had just absorbed. His palm had opened and expanded into a reinforced barrel. Now his arm resembled a legitimate gun.

"What you have in your hand is code-named Terra. As you may have already realized, it's a heavy-duty firearm. It's perfect for taking out large vehicles and locked metal doors. Now that you're done drooling over it, aim it at the door and prepare to open fire."

Minato hesitantly obeyed.

"Lean a little forward to brace for recoil. Twitch your index finger to open fire."

Even though his finger was not there, Minato twitched the muscle that would have normally been attached to his index finger. Just as the face had explained, Terra shut its chamber and fired a shell at the door. The blast was intense. Minato was thrown backward, evidently from his first experience. A large plume of dust had shot out of a plume where the door was. Minato gagged on the dust, attempting to reject whatever toxic inhalants were almost entering his lungs. He then looked up.

A hole in the wall now appeared where the door once stood. Decimated pieces of plaster were dropping from the ceiling. Minato blinked, and then the chamber on his left hand opened and spit out a smoking shell casing.

"Hope that wasn't too much for you," the face continued, acting as if everything that was happening was just another day in the life.

Minato could not take the suspense. "What the hell is going on?" he shouted, as if the face could respond.

"If you've got questions, now's not the time. That blast would have been heard by somebody, so time to get the hell out of there."

Minato hesitated, not quite sure where he would go. He stayed in that position for a minute, as if not moving would end all of his problems.

"Get out now," the face repeated. "Or would you actually want your corpse to be put on display for all your friends to see?"

The last sentence sent a chill down Minato's spine. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he pictured Fuuka and Yukari weeping over his coffin. And then he pictured them traumatized by his death. The most disturbing thought was their tears over his demise.

What about him? Was he really willing to die so early? What would happen if Yukari knew how he had died? Would she pity him or hate him for dying so easily? What if she really liked him all this time, but never got to say? Worse yet, he hadn't taken that step either.

If he died, would he have to repeat the nightmare? Would that dark figure return to finish its job?

_I haven't done anything worthwhile in my life. _

Minato paused for one last moment. He then knew what to do. He stumbled to stand upright.

"Lead the way," he said with a steady voice.

The face responded. "Make the same fist for the Terra cannon."

Minato did. His hand went through a reverse process from earlier. His left hand returned to its normal state, structure and metal plating just as it was supposed to.

"Make a fist with that same hand, but with your middle finger and index finger make contact with your palm."

Minato did so. A similar process occurred with his left hand again, but this time the muzzle of a shotgun replaced his forearm. Three smaller barrels jutted from where Terra's muzzle once extended. A smaller reaction chamber was exposed where the forearm met with the upper arm. This weapon was significantly different from Terra.

"Your second gun is code-named Kaze," the face continued. "If you're familiar with a shotgun, you know how it works. Keep in mind that whatever metal you absorb gets converted into ammo for whatever gun you use. If you absorb any metal, the metal converters in your arms will rearrange the atomic structure of the absorbed metal to turn into a substance called super polymer."

"Super-what?" asked Minato.

"It's the material your entire body is made of," said the face. "That, in turn, will patch up any holes in your armor."

As he listened, Minato started to quickly make his way out of the crater. He then noticed something in the corner of his vision. In sky blue, neon numbers flashed across the bottom.

"I'm seeing numbers," he said. "What does that mean?"

"It's your brain's way of processing how much metal is in your body," said the voice. "The more metal you have, the more you can use. You've just had a system reboot; when your mind has fully calibrated with your Gladiator Unit once again, you won't see that number. You'll simply sense the amount and be able to summon Terra and Kaze at will."

Minato was only halfheartedly listening as he made his way out. He was now walking down a stone walkway painted the same sickly green as the morgue. Almost as soon as the face finished its last message, another neon sign appeared in another corner of Minato's vision. At first, it displayed a small square of black. Then it brightened and showed a small green arrow pointing down the hall.

"And the arrow?" asked Minato.

"It's a form of danger indication," said the voice. "There's an intricate sonar system within your brain, so you automatically detect anything if you can hear it. Be wary when it changes colors."

Minato then reached an intersection of halls. Suddenly, a new sound echoed through the halls, and the arrow turned red. Minato placed his arm at the ready. It was then that he heard another voice besides the face's.

". . . The hell's going on?" asked a voice down the hall.

"Terrorism?" said another voice. "Thirds don't just drop dead overnight."

"Yeah, I get that. But why in a morgue?"

"Barely any security down here. Who'd be willing to blow money on security machines for this place, let alone pay us all to guard dead guys?"

Minato then flattened his body along the wall, just enough so that he could peek his head around the corner to see who was talking. Around the corner were two security personnel walking toward Minato. Each was large in mass and muscle and wore a blue uniform with a black utility belt at the waist.

Minato could not help but realize that at their belts were police-issued batons, along with nasty-looking handguns.

"Provided anyone heard the Terra cannon, there'll be guards," said the face. "Avoid them at all costs. You're most likely in no condition to engage in a firefight. If worse comes to worse, shoot the guards if they see you. If you can, use a diversion."

Minato then looked around. A foot away, a small tray was suspended on a metal pedestal. On it were numerous surgical tools, ranging from micro-drills to scalpels.

Without making much noise, Minato picked up a scalpel and returned to the corner of the intersection. He looked around the corner. The guards were still looking in the other direction. Minato held up the scalpel and threw it across the intersection as far as he could. Just as he had predicted, the scalpel clattered loudly on the floor. Minato drew his head and arm back around the corner.

"What was that?" one of the guards asked.

The other did not verbally respond. Instead, he waved his hand to the first guard and the two of them made a quick jog after the sound. As soon as they turned down the hall and faced opposite of Minato, the boy moved quickly around the corner. The red arrow then turned to the same green color it was earlier as Minato moved farther and farther away from the two guards.

"Good, you didn't have to kill anyone," the face said. "So far, so good."

Minato silently wished the face would shut up and give him a proper explanation. From there, Minato went incognito through the building, remembering to pause and hide every now and then whenever the arrow flashed red. In response, he found the nearest place to hide and wait until whoever was coming in his direction had passed. Minato was almost tempted to use Kaze on the guards but remembered the face's warning and held his fire.

Following the green arrow, he then ran up a small flight of stairs. The arrow flashed again, but this time it flashed yellow. Minato turned and faced where the arrow pointed.

It was a window, a wide window made of reinforced wired glass, which also revealed the jagged, brick walls of the familiar back alley of a building.

The face spoke once again. "You've reached an exit. Most likely, it's locked but not as stubborn as a locked door. Since no one can stop you now, you're free to use the Kaze gun."

Before Minato got trigger-happy, he peeked out of the window. It appeared as though he was on the second floor of the building. Down in the alley was an open dumpster, no doubt loaded with soft garbage. What was even better, there were no people in sight or in the alley.

Minato then positioned himself away from the window, this time leaning forward for the blast. He twitched the muscle that should have been for his index finger, and then the Kaze shotgun simultaneously released three shells of pellets at the reinforced glass.

Three things happened at once: The glass was blasted open, three metal shells ejected themselves from the reaction chamber of the Kaze, and a large alarm went off.

_Now, the alarm goes off._

_Security here stinks._

Minato reverted his left arm back to its original state. He then jumped out of the open window and landed in the dumpster. As soon as his rear end made contact with the first garbage bag, he heard the sickening sound of something being crushed like an egg.

Minato let out a breath when he realized that he was still alive. He soon regretted it when he smelled the garbage.

"Get moving," said the face. "Security is on the way."

Minato stumbled out of the dumpster. "Can't I at least catch my breath first?" he retorted to the face.

"Get moving," the face repeated, without even bothering to try sympathizing with Minato.

In the distance, the sound of police sirens was heard. Minato then remembered that barely any Colossians were still active at that time of night: Most of them were somewhere sleeping and not hearing voices in their head.

Without even considering the fact that any night owls could see him, Minato climbed up covered in garbage and followed the disembodied face's orders.


	4. Chapter 3: Rebirth

**Hey there, Reader!**

I almost to put an update this week. I'll post another four chapters after this, then we'll see how it goes. Though I feel like it's a little too slow as it is.

Tell me what you think!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 3 Recalling**

**Port Island general hospital: 1:58 AM**

An outdated hover car arrived at the scene of the crime. The thing was rusting at the edges and suffered a number of scratches on the rear bumper. If it weren't for the siren attached to its roof, the police would have stopped it before it reached twenty feet of the building.

By this time, the Port Island General Hospital was surrounded by the other authorities. Police were positioned at their cruisers, radioing their observations to their superiors at the police station. Meanwhile, other police were questioning the hospital personnel and security about the break-in and destruction of public property.

The outdated hover car was parked, and a woman in a business suit stepped out of the vehicle. She slammed her door shut, then made her way toward the hospital. The woman approached a policeman radioing his superior. He stopped in mid-sentence when she tapped him on the shoulder. He then put his hand over the small microphone of the radio, ignoring the muffled orders of his commanding officer.

"May I help you, ma'am?" the policeman asked.

The woman had pale blonde hair and wore half-moon spectacles on her head. She flashed a detective badge for the policeman. "I'm Detective Mitsuru, Special Investigations Unit. I'm here to investigate the case."

The SIU, from what the policeman knew of it, was a special division of Colossian law enforcement. They were called in to examine certain high profile crime scenes that appeared to have connections to conspiracies and terrorism. In short, she was one of _his _superiors.

"O-of course," he said, stepping aside. "There are two scenes with solid evidence. Follow the trail of police and caution tape to find them."

"Thank you," said Detective Mitsuru.

Watching the woman walk away, the policeman almost forgot that his commanding officer was still trying to give him orders.

Detective Mitsuru saw the large crater in the green wall. By the time she arrived, there were half a dozen forensic experts investigating the scene of the crime. Half of them were taking photographs of the morgue's walls, while the other half was dusting possible surfaces for fingerprints.

"Officer," Detective Mitsuru asked a forensic expert taking photographs, "what have you found?"

The man, who was kneeling over a chalk circle around small black objects on the ground, shook his head. "Never seen anything like it," he replied.

"Like what?" asked Detective Mitsuru.

The man signaled for the detectives to come closer. He then directed their eyes to the black objects on the ground.

"Wheels?" she asked.

The forensic expert nodded his head. "Here's the weirder part," he continued. "These wheels weren't just spares; they were for a medical cot."

"A medical cot?" inquired Detective Mitsuru.

"Yeah," he replied. "The one that's not here."

The detective glanced upward. Just as the forensic expert had noted, it appeared that there should have been a medical cot in the gap between the others. Instead, plastic wheels and a cot mattress were all that were left.

"Where's the metal frame?" she asked.

The forensic expert shook his head. "Nowhere in the building. Who steals a metal frame and then blows open a wall?"

The detective examined the hole in the wall. "It's him," she said.

"Who?" asked the forensic expert.

"Thanatos," she answered and then examined the damage to the wall. "He's active again."

* * *

**Minato's apartment: 2:09 AM**

Minato had his fill of surprises for the night.

The built-in detection in his head had driven him down paths that no other man would have crossed. Minato had to dive into numerous dumpsters in back alleys, dart around corners whenever the arrow flashed red, and then finally climb up the back fire escape just to reach his apartment 15 floors above ground level. Minato might have considered these directions irrational, but then would he really want to be seen in a dirty medical tunic and smelling of 2-month-old garbage?

What was more, apparently absorbing that metal did more than just transform one arm into a metal appendage. As he ran, he realized that both his arms were now metallic. His right arm looked just as bizarre and full of intriguing mechanics as the left. Halfway through the trip, he also realized that his legs were also made of metal. If he had any rational thoughts, they were not present as he ran.

The same feedback returned every few minutes. Minato fiddled with the dial to different frequencies to alleviate the disturbance. After a while, Minato openly wondered what that was.

"It's just your brain slowly adjusting to your dormant motor functions," said the face. "No need to worry. The pain will go away if you just let it ring for a few minutes."

Minato never let that happen. After fine-turning it for the umpteenth time, the feedback diminished once more. Minato finally reached his familiar apartment window. Inside, the room still looked as it usually did. But all of his belongings were missing. What was left was an empty apartment residence, devoid of anything that belonged to Minato.

"Enter your apartment," the face finally said after an hour-long silence.

Minato dug his fingertips under the window and tried to lift it open. Conveniently, the window was not locked, so it opened easily. Once it was wide open, Minato stepped inside. The lights were off, making the room seem emptier than it already was.

_Great. _Minato found the light switch and flipped the lighting back on. The lights were dim, just as Minato remembered they were before. From that little bit of illumination, he confirmed that all of belongings were gone except for the bed.

"Provided you didn't move in the past few months, you should still be living in the Sunset Horizons apartments building."

_Shut up already, _Minato thought.

"It's safe to assume that your belongings were taken after your so-called incident, whatever it was."

_Can't I at least get an explanation?_

"Here's a spot they missed: Check under your bed."

Seeing that he had little choice in the matter, Minato got down low and examined the space under his bed. It was already dark that time of night, and the lack of lighting inside made it hard to see. But then something caught his eye.

He got up and dragged the bed behind him, making a rough scraping noise as the legs grinded against wooden flooring. He then lifted the bed, laid it against the wall, and checked the underside. Minato felt his eyes bulge out of his skull. Zip tied to the underside metal framing of his cot was a bundle of blue cloth and a daypack that had multi polymer plating stitched to its exterior.

"Make a fist with only your thumb digging into your palm," the face continued. "You don't need to absorb any metal for this."

Minato swallowed down his surprise and tucked his thumb into his right palm and made a fist. Unlike the earlier morphing, this one involved Minato's right hand simply sprouting the blade of a hunter's knife from the knuckle attached to his thumb.

Minato cut the plastic strips and then allowed the package to drop into his other hand. He opened it and then realized that inside the package was a fresh change of clothes. Nice, brand new clothes at that.

"Provided your building still has water," the face continued, "take a good shower, and then change into those clothes. After that, you'll get some of your answers."

Somewhat content to follow orders, Minato picked up the clothes and walked to the bathroom. He passed through the doorway of the bathroom's entrance but then spotted something out of the corner of his eye. Minato paused and then backtracked to get a better look.

Minato had passed his bathroom mirror, which was still as clean as it had been when he last looked into it. He saw something that looked like a medieval war helmet shaped to resemble a predatory animal. It had neon blue pistons for hair and shark-like teeth where his lips should have been. A cross-shaped bulge was in the middle of his forehead, and glowing blue slits served as eyeholes.

The rest of his body matched in bizarre, monstrous appearance with bulky ridges poking out from every distinct joint. Black metal streaked with blue LED lights covered everything else. The mass of his body had increased twice that of his original state. He was already sizable to begin with, but now he was the size of a barge. He was a hulking monster.

Minato dropped his bundle.

_Holy crap . . . _

* * *

**Detective Mitsuru's car: 2:14 AM**

Detective Mitsuru was inside her car, driving away from the crime scene. At that point, her thoughts about the subject were getting more and more confusing. Her cell phone rang in her pocket. Keeping her eyes on the road, she kept one hand on the steering wheel and used the other to pick up the call. She pressed the answer button.

"What have you got?" asked the voice on the caller's end.

"It's Thanatos, Chief Roland," the detective replied.

"I've heard it from some of the forensic guys." Chief Roland replied. The vehicle reached a red light. In front of the detective, a large wave of hover cars passed by. "Do you remember how long he has been inactive?"

"'Bout half a year," replied Detective Mitsuru, pressing the gas pedal when the green light illuminated through the black night.

"Do you have any theories why?"

"Got bored maybe?" asked Mitsuru. Wreaking havoc and getting trigger-happy wasn't enough for him?"

Chief Roland scoffed. "I've never heard of a vigilante who got bored with crime, disappeared, then moved on to destroying major public property in the middle of the night."

"That doesn't matter at the moment," said Detective Mitsuru. "Thanatos's former habits in the first few weeks of his appearance included robbing banks and mugging Third Ascendancy stragglers. We can assume that he needed money fast."

"He later spent that money on something," Chief Roland continued. "Most likely on shelter and false IDs, right?"

"Maybe on getting a full makeover, for all we know," said Mitsuru. "Do you suppose that he acquired some sort of multi polymer armor to be able to take all those machine gun bullets?"

"We can assume that much," said the chief, racking his brain for possible answers. "Synthetic elements do wonders these days. Plus the cameras suggested that he had concealed firearms, which he used to start his career in vigilante justice."

"He hospitalized people on every appearance," said Detective Mitsuru. Her knuckles whitened as they gripped the steering wheel. "And he's gonna do it again."

"But all the possible suspects are dead," Chief Roland noted. "The weapons were from E. Co Industries, which is now just a memory. Any known worker who was in it is either dead or hooked up to a life-support machine."

Detective Mitsuru did not respond for a minute.

"Better visit Ithaca again," she said.

* * *

Ithaca's front gate was more noticeable from the street than the building itself. Welcoming the detective, the gate formed a colossal marble arch painted with gold streaks along its pillars. At the top of the arch was the grand title engraved in metal: Ithaca Asylum.

As the detective passed under the arch, the main building was visible. Similar to its front gate, the building might have easily been mistaken for a five star hotel. Its walls were painted white and gold, radiating brilliance through the black night. Windows lined the walls facing outward to the street full of pedestrians. To the layman, Ithaca Asylum could have easily passed for a luxury for the finest of Port Island's Sector Senators.

Only two factors contradicted this idea: The building was filled with the criminally insane, and there were large guards without the slightest hint of a warm welcome on their blocky, muscled faces. Of course, the guards did not deny Detective Mitsuru entrance into the building: Their job was to watch out for those who would _exit _the building.

Once the detective and the guard had passed through a glass-paneled doorway, waiting for them was a man sitting at the front desk reading his magazine. He lazily looked up. Detective Mitsuru flashed her badge.

"Gonna see Joseph again?" he asked.

"Why else would I be here?" Detective Mitsuru said.

The man put his magazine down and then signaled for the female detective to follow him down the hallway to their left.

The hallways were majestic just as they were ironic. Similar to their exterior, Ithaca's hallways were painted white and gold, along with a tiled floor of granite. Needless to say, Ithaca was the most luxurious of asylums to date.

A constant reminder for everyone inside of Ithaca's walls of the institution's true mission was that, instead of grand wooden doors, each inmate's cell was sealed with a heavy, metal barrier the featured a special slot installed at approximately eye level for the guards to look inside.

After being field tested with explosives, the developers of the barrier had concluded that it could only be opened with card keys. Only one full ring of cards was issued to each guard.

Detective Mitsuru remembered the last time she was in the building seeing the same inmate as before for the same reasons. Neither the details of an ironic insane asylum nor the route to a particular patient would easily fade from one's memory.

Detective Mitsuru and the guard approached a barrier virtually identical to every door along the hallway. The only difference was a number: 3524.

"Is he awake?" Detective Mitsuru asked. "If he's asleep, I could always come back in the morning."

"Oh, he's awake, alright," the guard replied.

"At this hour?" the detective inquired. "Just couldn't help but notice that you didn't peek in."

The guard searched his shirt pocket and produced a ring of card keys. "Believe me, he never sleeps until 5:00 AM."

He slid a key down the familiar slot made for scanning cards. Just like clockwork, the door made a clicking sound, and then the guard opened the barrier. Light streaming in from the hallway flooded the cell's dimming light, and the cellmate was revealed.

Dr. Joseph Carlson was busy painting the walls of his blank room when the barrier was removed. As soon as his painting was revealed, even Detective Ross was stunned. Joseph had apparently smuggled in black finger paint from his art sessions and used both of his hands to paint a large mass of curved lines and splattered marks all over his walls. Disturbingly, the entire painting resembled numerous hands trying to grasp at the air in front of them. Detective Mitsuru noticed that they were all grasping in the general direction of herself and the guard.

The man, looking twice his age, turned to face the detective. He smiled an odd sort of smile, just as a cat would grin at its prey.

"Mitsuru Kirijo," Dr. Joseph said with a natural Era accent. "You look as lovely as ever."

The guard said, "Ithaca policy: Night hours, guests have only 14 minutes to visit a patient."

Detective Mitsuru approached Dr. Joseph. She took a seat near him. Joseph then followed her lead. He offered a handshake but then remembered the paint on his hands and pulled his hand back.

"How has Ithaca been for you so far, doctor?" Detective Mitsuru asked with a smile, remembering how to butter up her witness.

"Oh, fairly well," Dr. Joseph replied. "I'd like to use more paint, but they mentioned something about 'conservation of materials and courtesy to the others.' Damn, I could do so much more if I had some more paint!"

Detective Mitsuru maintained her smile. "If it's not too much to ask, may we inquire about your project a few years ago?"

Dr. Joseph raised his eyebrow quizzically, "Why so inquisitive?"

"I'm not at liberty to disclose such information just yet."

"But I'm at least entitled to hear a _tiny _little detail about your little question, right?"

Detective Mitsuru paused, searching for the right words. She quickly glanced at the guard, who was looking in the other direction. "There was an incident tonight," she said. "One regarding disappearing metal and a massive artillery shell casing."

Dr. Joseph's smiled returned; it seemed to widen farther than before. "Well, what do you want to know about my Project G?"

* * *

**Minato's apartment: Meanwhile . . .**

Minato examined his new clothes.

A waist cut, waterproof, hooded jacket; a polo T-shirt; heavy street sneakers; and stitched-on, leather legging blue jeans. The outfit was subtle enough to blend in easily with the Colossian crowds. Apart from the other strange things happening to him that night, he would have easily blended in with any other person walking down the street.

"Now that you're comfortable," said the face, "go to your bed again and slice open the bindings on the daypack. Please feel free to open it."

_Jeez, now you use the magic word._

Minato morphed the knife once more and sliced off the plastic bindings on the bag. He then picked the backpack up off the ground and opened it. Inside were four objects: a small computer, a power cable, and a small portable memory device.

"Then turn the computer on."

Within 30 seconds, Minato plugged in the power cable and turned on the computer. Minato opened to a blank desktop screen. The feedback returned, and Minato turned the dial once more.

"There's really no need to do that," said the face.

"Shut up," said Minato. "Hurts like hell right now."

"Maybe it wouldn't hurt if you let the pain sink in," said the face.

"No thanks," said Minato. The feedback finally subsided. "It's gone now. So what do I do?"

The face cleared his non-existent throat. "I can't tell you the whole story," it said. "Frankly, I don't have all the details. But you have a number of memory devices to do that for me. That specific memory device actually has fragments of your memory within. It's like a cure for amnesia. But it could be a lot to take in on one go. We can take it slowly, with you being revived from the dead and all."

Minato blinked, his mind blanking momentarily before grasping the nature of his situation. If he had listened to this sermon beforehand, he would have laughed and shrugged the message off. This was not the case now. He had just transformed into a demonic form, grown guns out of his arms, and realized that his head was hardwired with a computer.

Minato then realized that this was by far the most exciting event that had happened to him in a long time. No, it was the _only _exciting event that had happened to him. A newfound curiosity was born that instant, and a decision was made right then and there. What more crazy events could occur?

Power was at his fingertips. He could do whatever the hell he wanted to do. Could he satisfy his bloodlust for the Third Ascendancy?

The burning desire returned to Minato's heart, similar to just a couple hours before. Unlike then, he knew what he could do. He also knew how he was going to get what he wanted.

"I'm ready," said Minato.

The voice responded. "Plug that device into your computer, and then select 'refresh page.'"

Minato followed the commands as ordered. The computer suddenly blacked out.

"Now remove the memory device and press the button on the dark side." With that, the face disappeared, and the vision in Minato's left eye returned.

Minato followed the last instructions. At first, nothing significant happened. Suddenly, Minato felt the same falling feeling that he'd had in his dream.

* * *

_Memory file #1: years earlier_

The choking feeling returned.

Minato opened his eyes. Light flared in them, blinding his vision. Oddly enough, the light was not from the sun but from a number of florescent light bulbs built into the ceiling. Minato was not standing on his own two feet. Rather, he was floating above the ground horizontally. He tried to move, but his hands would not function. He tried to move once more, this time with everything he had in his body. Minato then realized that he couldn't do anything but view what was happening in front of him.

He saw a number of small bubbles float past his head. Minato realized that he was in some sort of tank full of liquid. It appeared as though everything he saw came with a strong shade of blue.

Garbled voices were heard outside of his tank. Minato was only able to pick up a few words.

" . . . Yet?"

"No . . . unready . . . developing . . . "

"Time . . . must . . . now . . . "

"Unready . . . more . . . later . . ."

_How are you today? _asked an ominous voice.

_Uh, can't feel anything, _Minato groaned. _Um, how about you?_

_Just fine. You took a nasty spill earlier._

_Spill? What spill?_

_You can't recall? The crash?_

_No, not at all._

_In the meantime, you will be sticking around for a while. It was fitting that we be acquainted._

_Hey, if you don't mind me asking, who are you?_

_Call me Aigis. We will be meeting again soon._

It was at that moment that a new voice entered the room, which then blocked the blinding light from Minato's vision.

"Is it ready?" asked the new voice in a much clearer tone than its counterparts.

The counterparts came closer. Their voices became clearer as well. "No GladiatorShadow Model Six needs more time to adapt."

"Well, I have superiors who want results immediately. Put it out on the test zone now."

The counterparts hesitated. "Yes sir."

The new voice left the room, allowing the bright light to blind Minato once more. One of the counterparts left his vision and then approached something nearby the end of the tank that sheltered his head. A high-pitched beeping noise was heard, and then the bubbles that rose around Minato's head ceased to float. The top of the tank opened, allowing even more glaring light to blind Minato.

"Time for a test run," said one of the counterparts. Minato then realized that this man, or scientist by the looks of him, was wearing a white lab coat with rubber gloves large enough to cover everything up to his elbows.

"How's his brain activity?" the scientist asked.

"Fine, so far," said the other counterpart, who also appeared to be a scientist.

The first scientist shook his head. "He's not going to make it out there."


	5. Chapter 4: Aftershock

**Hey there, Reader!**

I'll try to keep a weekly update. Forgot to do one last week, and I'll be out at the end of the month. I'll post another three chapters after this, then we'll see how it goes. Though I feel like it's a little too slow as it is.

Tell me what you think!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 4 Aftershock**

**Minato's Apartment: One second later**

Minato felt his extremities once more. The face was not giving a second's hesitation to get the boy moving.

"Once you're done," it said, "place the memory device a foot away from you, preferably on the floor." The face then disappeared, restoring the vision in Minato's eye.

Minato hesitated, attempting to process what he had just seen. Not quite sure of what was about to happen, he placed the memory device in the middle of the floor, away from the computer. Inside the device, a built-in hologram projector activated.

An enlarged projection of his own face appeared before Minato. The same hairstyle, the same skull shape, and down to the indents into his face. Its expression was stern and unfamiliar, completely in contrast with Minato himself. Everything was in a distorted hue of black and blue. Minato couldn't see it clearly enough to make the call, but he felt something was different about this face, something foreign and unknown. Was it his? Or was it someone else's projection?

"Kid," it said, "if you're watching this, then everything has gone as planned. I'm gonna give you a few tips, and then when I'm done, you'll do whatever the hell you have to do."

The face was then replaced by an old symbol: a diamond with small, illegible writing underneath it. Minato recognized the historical sign as the E. Co insignia.

E. Co was an industrial company that elevated Port Island to the title of most advanced city-state in the world. In its last few years of existence, its leader, Ikutsuki, took the title of Lord of Port Island. His reign ended when he was discovered to have ruled through propaganda and waging world war under Port Island's nose. Supposedly, E. Co dissolved after the Lord's tower was sacked.

"If you get into the wrong hands," said the projection, "you're in deep trouble. You got involved with E. Co. Let's just say that I brought you here to hide. It worked for a while, but then remnants of E. Co, a.k.a. Third Ascendancy forces, wanted to track you down to the point where the authorities were after you.

"Ever seen a spy movie where the main character had to take some crazy meds to wipe his memory? Well, that's what I did with you once the cops got too close to your location. If you're freaking out over amnesia, your memory should gradually come back to you. Don't expect it overnight though."

This was a lot to take in at once. Minato should have taken everything with a grain of salt since he had no reason to trust this projection. Yet the events that just transpired tonight persuaded him otherwise. Anything was possible, and Minato's mind overflowed with questions. Who was this person? Why was all this happening? How did he get all these guns in his arms? What was E. Co really after?

_Who was Aigis?_

Had Minato had a hearty drink, he might have laughed about it. For the time being, drinks were of no concern.

"I've left this device, along with a hell load of other recordings for you to view," the face continued. "Your top priority is to find the other memory devices. If you learn from them, you can learn your own history and slake your thirst for knowledge. Not everything is recorded. You will have many questions, but that's alright. The less baggage you have of a past life, of anyone you used to know, the better."

The face was then replaced by the familiar shape of the knapsack strapped to the bed. "Check the knapsack," said the projection. "You'll find a cell phone, money, and a small notebook with possible contacts you may want to look up. You've also got more gizmos in those hands of yours, so look in the notebook for instructions."

The projection reappeared one last time. "Everything has a cause and effect. Be careful out there. And for the love of God, don't do anything stupid. By the time you watch this video, you'll have gotten familiar with at least one of your classmates at the Gekkokan Academy. It won't matter if you run off to do whatever you have to do, but at least say hi to them for me, will you . . . well, after you ask them a few questions."

"What?" Minato asked.

"P.S., if you want to look like a normal human again, just picture your Active Armor shrinking into your skin."

The face then dematerialized its photon-energized figure without as much as another word. Before Minato could press the button on the device again, it burst into blue flames and then immediately was reduced to a heap of black dust.

Minato walked over to it and then stomped on it with the heel of his new shoe. "What the hell am I supposed to do now?" he nearly shouted at the small dust pile, forgetting that there were sleeping neighbors next to his apartment.

Granted he couldn't get more answers, since the memory device was dust now. Minato's curiosity was piqued, and he turned to the daypack and examined its contents. The projection was true to its word, as everything it listed was present.

_Who was that? _Minato wondered to himself. _Who were his allies? What was happening?_

Sure, the projection told him to cure himself of the amnesia to resolve all his questions. But Minato had more power than he could have realized. Now that it occurred to him, Port Island was messed up as it was. How much good could he do with his newfound abilities? Could he fix the city state by himself? How long would it take for these Thirds finally came after him? Perhaps Minato could do more than go searching for himself. He could really make the change he wanted to see in his city.

Minato picked up the weathered notebook and then flipped to the section labeled _instructions_. As he read, Minato realized that he was more like a machine; he did not need sleep, apparently. He read to himself the scribbled, yet legible, handwriting with crude sketches of fists and guns. The first diagram looked like a Gatling gun.

"Machine gun (a.k.a. Aqua)," he said. "Tighten fist with index finger and pinkie digging into palm."

* * *

**Yukari's apartment: 7:09 AM**

Dim ceiling lights revealed the features of Yukari's quarters, casting eerie shadows that danced along the perimeter of the room. Posters of numerous rock bands from the current decade and the last were scribbled over with black and blue streaks, virtually illegible to the naked eye. Even the walls that were not covered by paper were scribbled with the same message over and over again.

As in Fuuka's room, the figure of a curled human lay under the covers of a bed in the corner. A knock was heard from the door leading into the main room of the apartment.

"You okay in there?" asked her father.

"Just let me sleep," said Yukari from under the covers.

"Mom's worried sick about you," her father said. "It hurts just seeing you like this."

"Can't go out there," said Yukari, making a fake yawn. "Too tired to walk."

A moment of uncomfortable silence passed. "What happened was not your fault," said Yukari's father. "It was an accident."

"I wasn't there to prevent it," said Yukari, keeping her voice low and nearly inaudible.

"You gonna beat yourself up over it for the rest of your life? Or how about you and I go out for some lunch?"

Yukari did not reply.

Yukari's father sighed as he stood upright. "Sorry for wasting your sweet time," he said, then walked out the door. As he closed it, Yukari peeked out from under her bedcover. Her eye then caught sight of the message she had scribbled on the walls.

_Gone._

* * *

**Minato's apartment: 9:03 AM**

Minato found himself in a semi-dream. Even if he didn't need sleep, his mind wandered wherever it wanted to go. That was a bad sign if he needed to focus his mind on learning how his mechanical body worked, but he let his mind wander anyways. And through a few short recollections of the insane events that happened over one night, there was that woman again, the one from the simulation.

And the way she presented himself to him, almost as though they had been partners for a lifetime. Long, dark hair. A smile that beamed two shades of sunlight from across the deck. She was lovely in a familiar way. Minato remembered seeing this lady somewhere before. She was definitely someone important to him, yet he couldn't remember her name. And she looked a lot like Yukari.

Maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him in that simulation pod. The pod may have mistaken Yukari for someone else and colored her hair differently. Just the color and complexion of one girl's appearance may make her appear as a different person. Minato found that anomaly almost insulting, since he couldn't tell apart two people without knowing their appearances. She must have had some relation to Yukari, perhaps her mother?

_But I never met Yukari's mom before, _Minato thought. _So who is this lady?_

"Are you done yet?"

Minato flinched. As a reflex, he reverted back into his Active Armor. The boy swore under his breath. It had taken him nearly an hour to figure out how to morph back into a human form. To transform into a less-startling appearance was very hard at this point.

When he got it right, however, he would transform into a humanoid appearance, the armor melted away into hairline slits that riddled his skin, reducing the frightening appearance of his body until it had shrunken into his familiar bone-and-muscle ligaments. It took another hour to learn how to keep it that way without accidentally sinking back into Active Armor.

Through this process, Minato discovered another strange gift: his clothes. Almost like liquid metal, which they probably were, the clothes would expand into a larger size whenever Minato would transform.

Minato shut his thoughts away and paid attention to the face. Before he knew it, the vision in his left eye was gone again, now replaced by the face once more. Minato realized that the morning light was streaming in through his open window.

"Um, yeah," he replied to the face. As he listened, he tried to morph back into human form, which took a few tries before a successful morph.

"Have you read the entire booklet?" the face asked.

Minato checked how much of the booklet he had read and memorized. "Yep, all ten sections."

"Did you find anything useful in the contact information?" asked the face.

Minato quickly skimmed through the pictures and crude sketches in the booklet. Numerous options in nearly illegible handwriting were listed for him alone to do. Apparently, the face knew virtually everything about him and what he could do.

Instructions and code names for different functions occupied most of the space inside of the booklet, with weapons ranging from Terra to an unorthodox object that looked strangely like a compacted chainsaw. Minato hoped that he would never have to use that weapon under any circumstances.

The names and contact information were mostly gibberish to him. Each contact included a brief, insignificant description of how that person mattered to Minato's situation. Still, it was nice to know that the face had left a little extra information.

"I think I'm good to go," said Minato, almost to himself.

"Good," said the face. "Get out there and knock 'em dead."

The feedback returned almost as soon as the face said that. Minato clamped his ear while turning the dial. Something about this pain was different, more piercing than the last few episodes. After twisting the dial four times, the pain subsided.

"This feedback thing is gonna get really annoying," said Minato.

"It will pass," said the face.

Over the next few minutes, Minato packed most of his newly discovered belongings into the knapsack, the small computer into his bag, and the money into his pockets. He then got up, feeling odd that he had stayed up until morning and still felt brand new.

_Machines never need sleep._

He then checked his mental to-do list. There were two people he had to visit first: Yukari and Fuuka. If he could catch them on their usual schedule, then he could find them and improvise from there. The plan he had in mind seemed solid enough to execute. Only one problem came to mind.

_What day is it?_

Another sky blue neon set of digits appeared in the corner of his vision. Minato took a moment to make sense of the numbers. It was then that Minato realized the day.

_Monday. _Minato clenched his teeth to the point where he could conceivably have broken his molars. _One freakin' month after Sim-Dec._

He had little time to waste. Immediately, taking the same route as the night before, he opened the window leading outside and then closed it behind him. As soon as he had covered his almost insignificant tracks, he flew down the fire escape and down into the street.

The green arrow, calibrating for its user's needs, pointed in the general direction of his destination. Somewhat amazed by this newly discovered function, Minato took off sprinting.

It was a good thing that many people were up above in their hover cars, or they would have seen an inconspicuous boy run at 15 mph.

* * *

**GEKKOKAN Academy 6th period: 3:35 pm**

The Colossian flags still flew proudly on their flagpole at the front of the Gekkokan Academy.

There was confusion a few years earlier about which flag should be hung in front of the academy. During and before Lord Ikutsuki's reign, the Colossian flag had always had the same design: an image that represented a black phoenix in a red background rising out of the ashes of a terrible past. However, after Lord Ikutsuki's downfall, the symbol of the Rebellion that thwarted him differed greatly. Its design was a white halo on a navy blue canvas, which appeared as though it was beaming rays of hope to everything around it.

After much debate, politicians agreed that Lord Ikutsuki had brought a bad name to the Colossian flag, even though that flag was still significant in its history. The flag of the Rebellion couldn't be ignored either. A solution was reached: both the traditional Colossian flag and the Rebellion flag would be displayed, and neither alone.

Underneath both Colossian flags were a massive stone altar and metal supports for the tall flagpole. At this altar were two details that should be known to the local layman. One was a large, weathered metal plaque to explain the significance of both flags, and the other was the numerous Gekkokan Academy students.

Now, the students were swarming around the altar. They could be heard speaking into their cell phones and chatting with one another about things that they thought were funny or made them feel better.

Two students in particular were not involved with the crowd. Yukari, who was one of them, was easy to pick out. Although her untidy uniform was significant, she was also the only student who was sitting at the altar, apart from those who were mingling in front of her.

That was it. She was responsible. Why didn't she see that before? That day at Sim-Dec, why didn't she see anything that hinted danger? Why did she coerce Minato to come with her and not Fuuka? Maybe Fuuka would have spotted it. Minato was too short sighted to see those kinds of things.

Fuuka saw her friend and took a seat next to her. She already knew the whole story, which was a hard thing to talk to Yukari about. Fuuka cleared her throat, and when that didn't get her attention, she spoke.

"Hey," said Fuuka.

Yukari realized who was next to her. "Hey yourself," she said, not bothering to make eye contact with her classmate.

A moment of uneasy silence passed, minus the idle chatter in front of them. "Saw the headlines in the _Colossian Times_ a while ago," said Fuuka. "Don't know if you saw them too, but Sim-Dec says that they are terribly sorry about the incident with Minato."

"Minato is dead," said Yukari in a low voice. "'Comatose patient suddenly ceases brain function after one month in medical care.' Doesn't take a genius to figure out who died and why."

Fuuka tried to take Yukari's hand. She refused the offer. "No one knew that Sim-Dec pod was malfunctioning," said Fuuka. "It wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was!" Yukari retorted.

A number of heads turned, but then turned away when the atmosphere grew too uncomfortable to watch. Yukari spoke again in a lower voice.

"I killed him, Fuuka," said Yukari, "I killed him! I could have stopped him, I should have walked home with you, but I didn't." She then sunk her head even lower, teetering on the verge of bursting into tears.

Fuuka waited for her friend to let the tears flow. After a minute, she tenderly gave her a side hug. "Why don't we walk home together?" she finally said. "Won't do much good staying here."

Yukari collected her feelings. "Sure," she said after an uneasy silence.

The girls left. Mere minutes later, Minato arrived late to the altar at the front of the Gekkokan Academy. At this time, most of the students leaving from their sixth period class were already gone.

"Dammit," he said_. _Minato clenched his fist.

"Your friends aren't here," said the face, apparently aware of Minato's situation.

"Real observant, aren't you?" Minato mumbled.

"Slow down," said the face. "I can help. You were made for military purposes, but you were also trained for simple cat and mouse scenarios. Now think: What would they do after school?"

Minato thought about their habits. Every day, besides the day at Sim-Dec, he, Fuuka, and Yukari would meet up at the Colossian flag altar as soon as possible. Next, they would have gone south down Main Street and strolled around for about an hour.

Minato checked the time in the corner of his vision: There was still time to catch up with them. After rechecking to be sure he was reading the time right, Minato turned toward Main Street. Most of the street traffic was hover cars, but the sidewalk traffic was thin.

"Please be okay," said Minato.

Minato spent the next few minutes running at nearly 18 mph along the path that he had taken so many times before.


	6. Chapter 5: Revival

**Hey there, Reader!**

Man, I'm late.

I just posted the last 3 chapters. As I said before, this is actually a story I worked a while on. I'm actually in the process of figuring out a fight that happens towards the end of the story. We're nowhere close to that, so I'll just skip the chatter and let you finish. These have been long overdue.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 5 Revival**

**South Main Street: 3:47 PM**

By this time, Yukari would have gone window shopping and wondered what to buy the next time she received her monthly allowance. In accordance with Yukari's habits, Minato would have given his input on her decision. A few teasing jeers at each other would be given, some more uncouth than the others. It was mundane, but the conversation was fun.

As a result of his agreement or disagreement, Fuuka would have then wondered what she would do to get an awkward reaction from Minato. She would give her own share of taunts and commentary, further adding to the merry mood. The entire scenario would have repeated every school day of the week.

Along Main Street, numerous thrift stores and fast-food restaurants were open for business. Holographic images outside these establishments gave photon-filled welcomes and invited the nearest pedestrians to spend their money on what was inside. The interiors of these businesses were also nice, but their inner novelty meant little to Fuuka or Yukari at that moment.

Little was said between the two that day. It was the first time that either of them had met without Minato. As odd as it was, conversation seemed to thrive with a party of three.

"How's the family acting around you?" Fuuka asked long after the Gekkokan Academy had disappeared over the horizon.

Yukari shrugged almost unnoticeably. "Mom's worried sick about us. Even my brother came in and talked to me this morning."

"All this over Minato," said Fuuka. "Not that I don't care or anything, but do they have to react so bad to the news?"

"I don't know," said Yukari. "Not that I care how they feel about my friend anyways."

"It wasn't your fault. Don't beat yourself over something entirely out of your control."

Yukari wiped some moisture building at the corner of her eyes. Her friend offered her a napkin, to which she accepted. "I know, I know. I just… I need some time to recover. If I see anything remotely close to Minato, I think I'm gonna go crazy."

The girls happened to pass a store that sold their favorite ice cream. Minato would have loved this place if he were around. Fuuka diverted her and Yukari across the street and along their way.

"Let it go," said Fuuka. "Just talk it out, alright? Everyone feels better after letting out their feelings."

Yukari took a minute to collect her feelings together before sharing them. "He was such a nice guy," she said. Yukari's voice became nearly transparent, without much care behind the words. "Always keeping an eye out for me, even when I didn't want him too. God, that guy was too nice for his own good."

Fuuka scoffed. "You always hated being the charity case," she said. "I can't believe we all ended up becoming friends."

"It's a small world," said Yukari. "But you can't find good guys every day. I just wish we had more time…"

"Maybe you could tell his parents or something," said Fuuka. "I don't mean to sound morbid, but I'd want my best friend to tell my parents nice stuff about men when I die. I'm sure they'd love to hear from you."

"Minato never talked about his parents," said Yukari. "We never had a reason to bring it up, but I feel like he never wanted to bring them up. That's probably why he lives by himself. I didn't want to provoke him or anything. I didn't want to scare him away or anything."

"They sure bring you down," said Fuuka. "But I can't blame them. Even if they begin to act like total pricks over the smallest stuff."

"Easy for you to say," said Yukari with a laugh. "Your parents stick around long enough to have breakfast with you."

A sudden thought occurred to Fuuka. "When did you meet Minato?" asked Fuuka.

"Huh?" said Yukari. "About half a year ago. Why?"

"Wasn't that when that old dude moved in too?" asked Fuuka. "I remember seeing some guy come onto our floor being all sneaky and stuff."

"Why? Does it matter?"

"Maybe that was his dad or something," said Fuuka. "And when that creepy dude left, Minato finally started walking around. Don't you think that's too close to be a coincidence?"

Yukari mulled this over in her mind. Her friend had a point. Perhaps there was more happening behind the scenes than she realized. While her head was in the clouds, she accidentally bumped into a man in the middle of the sidewalk. The man stumbled slightly, and Fuuka almost lost her balance.

"Sorry," Yukari said. "I wasn't watching . . . "

It was then that she saw the face of the man she had bumped into. She paled: Glaring at her intently was the sneering face of a Third.

The Third Ascendancy were a major terrorist group with diminishing perspectives. These people were raised on and believed in Lord Ikutsuki's ideas. First, fight for your own nationalism. Second, Ikutsuki was the one true Lord, and everything that he did was for the benefit of Port Island. Third, the new government established after the downfall of Ikutsuki was the true evil. Any offense from a member of this government was not to be taken lightly. Unfortunately, any member of the group quoted a principle to justify brutally hurting civilians.

Yukari realized the man's identity as soon as she saw the imprint of an X marked through the flag of the Rebellion on his leather jacket. There were two other men just like him nearby.

The one she'd bumped into folded his arms, making them seem frighteningly thicker to the two girls.

"Got something you want to say, girl?" he asked.

In that moment, Yukari went from feeling wracked with guilt over Minato to extremely uneasy over this hostile encounter. The mood swing was evident from her new voice. "N―No," she almost said in a whisper.

All three men laughed heartily. "You got some nerve," said the first man, "bumping into me like that."

Fuuka, who had not been so frightened by the man, spoke. "My friend's sorry," she said. "She didn't mean it."

All three men laughed once more. It was then that Yukari noticed a glass bottle in the hand of the first man. Now she realized that he had a glazed look in his eyes as if he wasn't processing thought as he should. The situation had just gotten worse.

"Hate to rush, but we've got to go," said Fuuka, grabbing Yukari's quivering hand. They tried to walk past the three men, but the first man stopped her by putting his arm out to block her path. In almost perfect synergy, the two men behind him folded their arms and sneered at the two girls.

"Guys," Fuuka finally said, "we don't want trouble."

Yukari then turned the other way, but realized that there was another Third right behind them. She and Fuuka were trapped.

The first Third mockingly adopted a gentleman-esque stance, directing their eyes to a nearby alley. "Ladies," he said with a toothy grin. "Please step this way."

Both Fuuka and Yukari were hesitant but then followed the thug's order. In front of them, the two Thirds standing behind the first man entered the alley with the two girls behind them. The last thugs followed, blocking the possible exit.

There were brick walls from the neighboring buildings, unpainted and weathered from outdoor elements and little maintenance. Two side exits from both neighboring buildings were revealed by dim lights above their doorways. Both girls were stopped next to a dumpster.

All of the men cracked their knuckles. "Who wants to play first?" he asked.

The four men closed in on them. Yukari almost considered closing her eyes, not facing the men as they attacked her. Fuuka almost considered allowing herself to be killed without a sound.

"Hey ugly," said a muffled voice, which came from the street facing the open end of the alley. "Lay off the girls."

The four men stopped their approach. The Third with the bottle didn't bother turn around. "Beat it, punk," he said to the newcomer, whose entire figure was blocked by the thug's bulky frame.

"Say that to my face, turd." The newcomer's voice had a steel cold aura to it that sent chills down Fuuka and Yukari's spines. In response, the Third smashed his glass bottle against the brick wall and held the broken end like a shank.

"You got a problem," he asked, "or you gonna move along?"

The atmosphere had suddenly grown cold. "Your mommy didn't hit you hard enough," the newcomer said.

Even though the two girls did not have the ability to view what happened next, they could tell that the newcomer had dashed at the Third. Completely out of place under clear skies, the sound of lightning striking a tall metal pole echoed loudly through the alley.

The thug immediately dropped his broken bottle and crumpled to the ground. The second man who was standing next to him remained motionless for a split second. Then he flashed a knife and slashed it at the newcomer.

With quick precision, the newcomer caught the knife by snatching the man's wrist and twisting his forearm. The Third gave a shout of pain as the newcomer used his momentum to bend the man's forearm behind his back. Immediately, the newcomer gave a bone crunching slug into the man's face.

The thug then used his other hand to shove his captor away from him. The newcomer released his grip but used the momentum from the shove to drive a spinning side kick into the Third's gut. Just like the previous foe, this one dropped his knife and crumpled to the ground in a heap. Once the other four people in the alley realized what had just happened, the atmosphere became very intense.

The last two thugs knew what to do: They grabbed both Fuuka and Yukari and pulled them in close in headlocks. Once the girls were trapped, the men held handguns to their hostages' heads.

"Don't come any closer!' shouted the man that held Fuuka.

The newcomer observed the two men. He then raised his hand and produced a weapon out of thin air. It was a shotgun.

"Don't tempt me," said the newcomer with a creepy expression as he jerked his weapon downward, cocking it rather forcefully. No one noticed, but the shotgun appeared as though it had cocked itself with an invisible hand.

The man who held Yukari hostage then realized what he had held up to his hostage's head. He whipped out his handgun and fired at the newcomer's head.

In the light, no one could tell if the bullet had penetrated the newcomer's skull. The handgun had made almost no sound once it fired its plasma-propelled bullet. As if in answer to the obvious question, the newcomer's head was jerked backward, and his shotgun arm dropped.

A seemingly lifeless body stood erect in an unnatural pose. Like a puppet hanging by strings, the body remained in its stance without stirring. The newcomer used his opposite hand to feel his forehead. He used his index finger and thumb to pluck at something there. He then held out an object that resembled a crushed bullet.

"That hurt," said the newcomer.

The last Third, looking more frightened than before, released their hostages and then made a break for the other end of the alley, leaving Fuuka, Yukari, and the newcomer alone. The girls then collapsed to the floor due to lack of air from being head locked. The newcomer approached them.

Yukari, recovering her courage, stood between Fuuka and the newcomer. "Stay away from us!" she tried to say with a fearless expression. Instead, the look of uncertainty appeared and was evident to the newcomer.

In response, the newcomer raised his shotgun in the air. Yukari closed her eyes. They reopened them once they realized that they were still breathing. Yukari then saw that the shotgun had disappeared into thin air, leaving the newcomer's hand empty.

"Sorry about earlier," said the newcomer, no longer sounding as sinister as before.

Neither Fuuka nor Yukari was sure that the man would simply leave. "What do you want?" Yukari asked.

The newcomer offered to help the two girls up. "Only your safety, ma'am," he said.

It was then that Yukari saw the newcomer's face clearly, or what was visible of it. Under the shadow of towering buildings, the person's mask was only visible along the edges. A few features, such as the outline of the plated metal edges of his cheeks and nose, were more apparent to her. Sticking out of the back of his mask appeared to be oversized pistons, which were emitting a strange cerulean glow at the girls' heads. All but his eyes, which shone a brilliant yet unnatural blue, seemed to mesmerize both her and Fuuka, who was still stuck, baffled on the ground. A small hole was apparent in the center of his forehead.

"Um," said Yukari, staring at the hole. She hesitantly accepted the newcomer's hand.

"It's nothing," said the man, his face still not clearly visible. The newcomer pulled Yukari to her feet. He then pulled up Fuuka, who responded in a similar manner. "I barely feel it. They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"Thanks," said Fuuka finally. "How can we ever repay you?"

After a moment's hesitation, the newcomer softened his voice and expression, in contrast to his earlier harsh aura. "You can start by watching who you run into." The newcomer saluted them. "Have a nice evening." He began a quick jog out of the alley.

"Wait!" Fuuka exclaimed. The surprised newcomer did so. "Who are you?"

The newcomer paused. After looking as though he was racking his brain for an answer, he stood upright and faced the two girls boldly. "Please ladies, call me Thanatos."

The newcomer then disappeared around the corner. Yukari chased after him and looked in the direction he had just run. The newcomer had disappeared into thin air. One pedestrian across the street was the only soul on his two feet.

"He's gone," said Fuuka. She turned to Yukari, who appeared as though _she _was the one who'd been shot. "Something wrong?"

Yukari did not respond, but out of awe not guilt. Her friend asked the same question once more. "N―Nothing," said Yukari.

"Let's go before more of those creeps show up," said Fuuka.

"Alright," said Yukari, following her friend's lead out of the alley. Although she did not say it to Fuuka, she thought something was familiar about this sentry.

_His eyes were electric blue. He couldn't be . . . _

* * *

**Rooftop: Meanwhile . . .**

From the rooftop of the neighboring building, Thanatos might have been spotted easily by an aircraft. His dark colored attire contrasted greatly from the bleached―white tops of the buildings around him. From the air, he would be as clear as a fly splattered on a window. But he was virtually invisible and unnoticeable to the people down below him.

There was more to Minato's hearing than he was aware of. In addition to detecting danger, it could pick up the smallest sounds from the farthest distance. Minato happened to accidentally eavesdrop onto the girls' conversation while looking for them. He was most shocked when they began to mention the mysterious stranger at the end of their conversation.

Which was more than enough reason to catch up to them. But Minato saw the two girls run into the three men. The situation escalated quickly, and Minato couldn't keep them out of the alley. It was good thing he came when he did, or else things would have gotten much worse. It was a good thing Minato could jump up a wall like a monkey, or else he would've avoided having an awkward conversation in Active Armor with his friends.

All the while, Minato was hearing constant feedback throughout this whole ordeal. The noise was still painful to hear, but Minato decided to ignore it all for dealing with the thugs. The funny thing was that the face was right. When he let the noise ring in his ears for a while, the pain actually diminished. Minato barely felt it during the actual skirmish. Now that he had time to think, he realized that half of his hearing was shot from listening to the feedback. He remembered to tune the dial again until it subsided.

"So, I guess you decided to play hero," said the face after a momentary silence.

"Yeah," Minato replied, wiping his face out of sheer force of habit.

The face sighed. "Out of all the names you could have come up with, you picked Thanatos?"

"Well, it wasthe first name that came to mind."

The face sighed and then gave the closest expression it had to being annoyed. However, it had no eyebrows or extra muscles to change its expression, so Minato could not tell if it was mad or not. Still, a thought bugged him.

"Hey," said Minato. "I don't really know what to call you since you're a face and all . . . "

"You may call me Orpheus if you wish for a name," said the face. "I am an Artificial Intelligence designated to act as your personal consultant."

"You're a secretary?" asked Minato.

Orpheus glared at him.

"Never mind," said Minato. "But did you see what I did right after I used the Taser gun?"

"When you used the Rai Taser gun on the muscled gorilla?" said Orpheus.

"I took out the second guy. How did I do that?"

Orpheus continued to look annoyed. "You were made for military purposes," it said. "Your creators assumed it was better for their subject to have advanced combat systems integrated with his new body."

Minato racked his brain for a coherent reference. "So, like, I have mojo powers?"

"Excuse me?" asked Orpheus.

"Y'know," Minato then made playful fist throw into the air, "like, chop punch kick?"

Orpheus sighed. "Yes, you have mojo powers. You had combat experience beforehand."

Minato then remembered the odd sensation he'd had on his forehead. "Wait a minute," he said. "I got shot in the head."

Orpheus appeared less annoyed and more relieved to see that Minato was asking a worthwhile question. "Your body's only organic component is your brain," it said. "Well, the right side of it; the left side is all machine."

Minato tried to picture the process that made him who he was. Graphic images of dissection and transplantation procedures obscured his mind's eye to the point where it bled. "Gross."

"Everything else about you is artificial," said Orpheus. "Your body is mostly super polymer, a very advanced type of synthetic element developed by E. Co Industries. It can only be damaged with heavy artillery weaponry."

"I'll avoid fighting the army anytime soon," said Minato.

"Your skin is also artificial," Orpheus continued, ignoring Minato's comment. "Synthetic tissue you created yourself before you wiped your own memory. It applies the regenerative capabilities of organic skin cells with the elasticity of rubber. Then again, the skin had to have been created using a live sample."

Minato tapped the length of his arm to see if it was really pure metal. "So I can take a bunch of bullets from a machine gun, and still be okay?"

"Yes," said Orpheus. "At best, you can last for 100 years. Getting shot up at all would shorten your artificially extended lifetime."

Minato then recalled the odd, shocking feeling in the spot where the bullet hit his forehead. "But will the wound heal over?"

"It already has," said Orpheus.

Minato felt his forehead again. The bullet wound had disappeared.

"Did you say that I made this synthetic stuff?"

"Yes,"

He chuckled to himself. "Damn, I'm good."

"I'm curious," said Orpheus. "Why didn't you reveal yourself to your friends?"

"Why do I have to tell you?" asked Minato.

Orpheus scoffed. "I'm in your head, that's why. There's no reason to keep secrets from me."

"It's because it doesn't feel right," said Minato. "Yukari sounded heartbroken over me dying. If she learned I was alive…"

"She would be too shocked to think straight?" said Orpheus.

"Not exactly," said Minato. "I don't know why, but I get the feeling she wouldn't believe it. Maybe until I have the whole powers thing handled, you know? Like I don't switch to Active Armor in the middle of a talk and all that."

Orpheus raised a non-existent eyebrow. "You seem scared. What for?"

Minato scoffed. "Who said I was scared?" he said.

"I'm just making an observation, that's all," said Orpheus. "But if you won't talk to them, you may as well test your abilities then."

Minato considered his options once more. "I better make a few visits to the people on the top of the hit list."

"Hit list?" asked Orpheus.

Minato strolled casually out of the other end of the alley. "The list in the notebook you had for me" he said. "The one with the names and instructions. Top priority is a lady named, um . . . " Minato paused to take down his knapsack and produce the notebook. "Someone named Detective Mitsuru."


	7. Chapter 6: Assets

**Chapter 6 Assets**

**SIU Headquarters: 9:45 PM**

The SIU headquarters was almost like a police station. The desks were arranged in a wide, carpeted space for optimum communication efficiency among the workers. Walkways were just wide enough for three people to squeeze through. Among the desks were walkways that led to separate offices for the higher officials, namely Chief Sanada of the SIU and others with similar but less superior titles.

By that point in the day, most SIU workers had already gone on home to rest. The lights were almost out, most of the desks were cleared of their owners' property, and the janitors were already at work cleaning the carpets.

Chief Sanada's "temporary" desk was a mess of pictures and clips from newspapers, each ranging from numerous cases. The chief himself was sitting in a rolling chair at the desk, the light of an active computer illuminating his face and the space behind him. No janitor had approached any desk within 5 meters of him. The last janitor who did so was given a formal and informal reprimand for "interfering with work," along with spilling extremely corrosive disinfectant in the chief's original office. He was faced with the ordeals of the judicial court, and he had not come back to work in that building. Rumor had it, he even changed his name and moved far away.

Detective Mitsuru's desk was not as messy, allowing for a small, built-in television screen. She was seated back in a similar rolling chair and was reviewing a case file that looked approximately five decades old, filled with virtually useless consent forms for E. Co. Industries and pictures of the recipients. The detective finally gave up reviewing the file for what seemed like the thousandth time and let it drop on the desk.

Joseph had hinted at something called Project G, where E. Co was incorporating its efforts. Unfortunately for the detective, everything else he had babbled was a repeat of the same idea. The project had been halted with the overthrowing of Ikutsuki's regime, the real Third Ascendancy, by the Rebellion. The remnants of the company were later searched for and the workers recruited by the survivors of the former regime, then abandoned once they had outlived their usefulness. By the time he had reached ranting about hands, the detective gave up and left. Since then, she and the chief had been looking for more information about Project G from official Port Island files. So far, they had made little progress.

"How's it going on your end?" asked Chief Sanada, his eyes glued to the computer screen.

"Nada," said Detective Mitsuru, rubbing her temples. "Found nothing relating to Project G over here. You?"

"Nothing that doesn't relate to video games and sci-fi novels," Chief Sanada replied. He logged off his temporary computer and shut it down. "Getting late. I'm going to call it a night. You gonna keep working?"

"Yeah," said Detective Mitsuru, sliding her chair over to a filing cabinet. She opened it and replaced the file she had in her hands with the next file in line.

"How's Jonathan?"

"He's fine," Detective Mitsuru replied. "He was able to cover a mile in eight minutes yesterday."

"On a treadmill?"

"You know he can't leave his chair by himself, let alone the neighborhood."

Chief Sanada nodded. "I trust he's doing well?"

"He's picked up oil painting," said Mitsuru.

"Ah, good hobby. Do you model for him?"

Mitsuru gave a slight laugh. "I can't stay still long enough for him to pick up a pencil."

Chief Sanada chuckled. "Sounds like he's recovering well," he said.

Detective Mitsuru flipped through the next file and snapped it shut. "I'm pleased he is."

"Well, that's it for me. G'night," Chief Sanada said. He grabbed his coat and left the building. The janitors waited a good five minutes before making their move. Once they were sure he was not coming back, they approached his work area with their vacuum cleaners.

At that point, Detective Mitsuru had opened a new file and begun reading it. As time slowly passed, file after boring file slipped through her fingertips, but she was only on the lookout for information on someone named Ryouji Mochizuki. According to former Dr. Joseph Carlson, his last gig in Project G had involved that man.

At some point, just before she dozed off, Detective Mitsuru finally found the file with Ryouji's name. Her eyelids had almost closed when she saw the name Ryoji, and then her interest piqued. Attached to the file was a picture of a man with graying hair and stress wrinkles.

Detective Mitsuru read the description aloud. "Name: Ryouji comma Ryoji; gender: male; age: 44; family: Ryouji comma Aigis, deceased; no children; medical condition: broken thigh bone, missing foreleg."

The file continued on to reveal a consent form for E. Co's project G. The history was extremely vague, evidently to protect Ryouji's private information. Permanent parker blotted out most of the written data, leaving only important names, dates, and sentences pertaining to the nature of the operation. What was evident was that he had suffered an accident of some sort, robbing him of the ability to walk on his own legs.

The procedure offered by E. Co. looked simple enough. His broken bones were to be transplanted with multi polymer internal framework, synthetic element supports enabling him to walk once more. What was interesting about the file was that it was only a couple of years old _after _the rise of the Rebellion. There were even other files about other patients consenting to Project G.

For the next minute, Detective Mitsuru cross-referenced all other files concerning this Project G. She searched through file after file again and again, scattering files across the surface of her desk. Her suspicions were cleared. There was no explanation of or other files concerning Project G besides body part transplants.

Something flashed in the corner of her vision. She looked up from her 11th file. Detective Mitsuru located the source of the light; it was right outside the open window facing the open street. Ordinarily, the street was empty of local Colossians at night, whether they walked on foot or drove hover cars. But one figure stood out from the nearly empty street.

It had blue eyes and a demon's face.

Detective Mitsuru flinched. He held up a white index card for Detective Mitsuru to see. Once it was clearly evident to the detective, Thanatos made a gesture that hinted, "Keep quiet." Thanatos then dropped the index card to the ground and dashed out of sight.

Detective Mitsuru knew what to do; without stopping to put on her coat she dashed outside. Once she had hastily passed the building's welcome desk, she found the approximate area where the freakish figure had appeared out of nowhere. Inevitably, she found the white index card. She picked it up and read it:

Detective Mitsuru,

We don't have to make formal introductions, so let's cut to the chase.

There is a phone number on the back of this card. Use it to contact me.

Burn this after reading.

Your cooperation will be most appreciated.

Thanatos

Detective Mitsuru immediately flipped the card around. True to his word, Thanatos had left a phone number. She immediately dashed back to her desk, still untouched by the janitors, and grabbed her phone. The familiar dial tone rung. Once the line had been established, a muffled but gruff voice responded.

"Hello detective," said Thanatos.

Detective Mitsuru pressed a button on the bottom of her desk. A built in call detector activated, tracing the source at the other end of the phone line. The small television screen inside of her desktop flashed on and traced the source of the call. A small beacon started flashing along Main Street. It was moving quickly.

_He's moving, _Detective Mitsuru almost muttered under her breath. This meant that Thanatos was using a cell phone; he could not be traced to one location.

"Here's a question for you," said Thanatos. "Why do you solve crimes concerning me?"

Detective Mitsuru's blood ran cold. "What makes you think I'm only concerned with you?" she asked in a stern voice.

"Your activities have been centered on cases involving missing metal tools and empty shells lying around at crime scenes. However, these cases have been dismissed as Third Ascendancy attacks that were seemingly irrational acts of destruction. You know me better than that, now don't you?"

Detective Mitsuru rechecked the screen. Thanatos had stopped in the middle of the street. "Why me?"

"I have observed other detectives on these scenes and observed their reports that were presented to the media. Although some of the information was classified, I could tell that your thoughts about the matter were much different. You were the most suited for the job I have in mind."

"Different?"

There was a pause. "By now, all of your questions should be obsolete. Anything that matters at the moment has been answered."

"We can find a suitable solution. First, I want you to locate and photocopy all case files concerning E. Co technology and operations. Second, bring the copies to the Gekkokan Academy flagpole at midnight. Come alone, and then we'll talk. Your cooperation would be most appreciated."

The line clicked once, and then the other phone was hung up.

Detective Mitsuru paused as she observed the screen tracing the call. Thanatos had resumed movement but at a much slower speed and off of Main Street. This meant that he had left his vehicle and avoided any possible witnesses.

As the line rung with an empty dial tone, Detective Mitsuru was at a loss for words as well as thoughts. Once the haze in her mind had cleared, she ripped up the white index card and dumped the pieces into her wastepaper basket, ignoring the note's instructions.

Detective Mitsuru then looked at a picture frame displayed at the front of her desk. The picture showed herself along with a Jonathan Mitsuru, her husband. He was crippled when he was caught in the line of the Thanatos's fire. He only started recovering a few months prior to tonight. How much more could they lose if she refused to cooperate? Thanatos knew where to find her. Why not her husband?

Regrettably, she located the files concerning E. Co., including the ones mentioning Project G, and then discretely made her way to the copying machine.

Her entire conversation with Thanatos had been too quiet for the janitors to overhear. Even as she left, neither of them did so much as look up and notice that the detective was muttering to herself about losing her badge.

* * *

**GEKKOKAN Academy Flagpole: 10:58 PM**

The hit list was organized as follows: Name, picture, contact information, and instructions regarding what each person could offer and how to deal with that person.

After taking a minute to decipher the vague instructions set forth by Orpheus, Minato was able to find a better translation for the directions. He found the voice recording on his computer. Before making his move, he realized that the voice recording was set to provoke the detective, along with bending her to his will. She would be forced into a position where she had to help him.

The detective, as described in the hit list, was not convinced that Thanatos was just a rampaging war machine. From what Orpheus had described (and referenced from online media archives), she had not been as cynical about his habits. However, there was not enough information to prove his conclusion.

Worst case scenario, Minato would have to sound like he knew what he was doing and knew what was going on in the criminal underworld. Luckily, he had watched enough espionage movies to know what to say. Besides, most of what he would actually be saying would be partially true. The entire act seemed immoral, but Minato was a dead man whether he went through with the plan or not. If this was going to get him closer to an answer, then so be it.

Minato, otherwise known as Thanatos, was standing in a natural blind spot at the academy's entrance. He was in Active Armor to hide his normal face and possibly draw a weapon if necessary. From the dark spot, one would have to look carefully to catch a glimpse of his now faintly luminescent mask.

If the plan pulled through, then Minato would have the necessary information to locate and learn more about E. Co. Industries. If not, well, he would not hunt down Mitsuru. Exploiting confidential information was immoral enough.

Almost out of the darkness, a slender figure carrying a small suitcase approached the building. Even from far away, the blonde hair gave away her identity. Minato tried to suppress his conspicuous aura even more.

Detective Mitsuru stopped once she was at the base of the flagpole. She turned around to look out onto the street, which would more likely allow her to see any freakish figure coming a block away. Clutching the briefcase closely, it was as though the detective was carrying the deed to the entire city state of Port Island itself.

Thanatos approached the detective from behind. "You've done well, detective," he said.

Detective Mitsuru spun around. "How did you find that Intel about me?" she demanded in a stern voice.

"All in due time," he said nonchalantly. "The files?"

After a moment's delay, Detective Mitsuru held up the briefcase and opened it for Minato to see. Just as promised, stapled copies of numerous official files were packed into the small case. "Here are copies of all the files the SIU have concerning E. Co Industries," said the detective.

"Slide it over here."

The detective then closed the briefcase, set it on the ground, and slid it over to the vigilante. Once the case skidded to a stop an inch from his metallic foot, Thanatos knelt down and picked it up.

_So far so good, _thought Minato.

"You have your files," said Detective Mitsuru. "If you don't mind, now it's my turn to ask questions. You ran off somewhere for the past six months. Why?"

Thanatos paused. _Where'd I go? _"Why does it matter?" he inquired.

Detective Mitsuru regained her stern voice. "Two years ago, you were associated in a robbery at the Keeper's State Bank. You blew open a wall and launched the debris that captured both the robbers. Six civilians were also hospitalized. One in particular was paralyzed from the waist down. So I found little reason to dismiss you as an idiot with too much time on his hands."

An odd silence passed. _I hurt people?_ Minato had no memories of a past life. However, something inside him told him to play more than just the good guy. At this point, Thanatos had more control over what he said. His tone shifted from intimidating to more gentle.

"There will be no more civilian casualties," he said. "All I want is your assistance with something big that is happening."

Detective Mitsuru was disturbed by the last comment. This did not sound like the Thanatos that the case files had described.

Thanatos continued his explanation. "Port Island's crime rate had only increased after the establishment of the current Ascendancy. Not even District Troops can handle the job. Organized crime, Thirds, only to name a few of the problems that Port Island's welfare is threatened by. The extremists control half the city, and civilian casualties are rising. I found myself being pursued by the remnants of E. Co. for the technology I had taken from them.

"If they could make weaponry like this," said Thanatos directing Mitsuru's attention to his demonic helmet, "then who knows what havoc might be wrought when they release it upon the people?"

With cautious agreement, Detective Mitsuru nodded to show that she understood. Her notion suggested compliance, but her bitter sentiments were masked behind the acquiescent face.

"You are not obliged to help me," said Thanatos. "But if you are willing to stop antigovernment efforts, then help me. Thirds, as well as the organized crime, depend on old E. Co weaponry and files for their activities. They are quite possibly are selling even deadlier products on the black market. I need answers as to what E. Co was doing during the last few years of its existence. Before I can find the answer, the local police will still be looking out for me. I need you on the inside to tell me what's happening."

Detective Mitsuru was still not ready to be convinced. "Of all the detectives on the force, why did you pick me?" she asked.

Thanatos paced in a semicircle around the flagpole, allowing the streetlights to reveal the features of his helmet. "I have reviewed your analysis of my past actions and crimes," he said. "You didn't seem like the type to simply dismiss me as a mindless monster."

Once Thanatos was in plain sight, the detective's expression shifted from confused to completely awestruck. Every other image of the vigilante she had seen had been a blur in a black and white photograph. Seeing such a hideous face so still was the equivalent of having a District Trooper walk up to her in full combat armor and ask for her hand in marriage, which is how she met her husband.

"Can I trust you to help me?" asked the Thanatos.

His helmet was intimidating still, but the voice behind it was lighter and more persuasive. He might not have intended this, but he was trying to speak at an equal level as the detective. Now the Thanatos's aura of imposing fear was gone.

There was a pause while the detective thought over Thanatos's request. This was the man who crippled her husband. The man at home couldn't resume his work nor earn his wages in the law. All he could do now was list about without a means of supporting the family.

Ever since that day, the detective had stopped at nothing to capture Thanatos. But now she saw that he was just a crook. And crooks were corruptible. Thanatos's crusade was irrational and unbelievable. He was reckless and unreliable, but could serve of use to Mitsuru along the line.

"No harm will come to me or my family?" Mitsuru asked.

The vigilante nodded. "Use the number again if you need to contact me," said Thanatos. "I anticipate positive news."

He then turned and walked away. Black armor and blue streaks whisked into the darkness and disappeared in an instant. The one who called himself Thanatos had disappeared down the shadows of the creeping night.

Detective Mitsuru inhaled deeply. She felt the gun hidden in her coat. She wondered what would have happened if she had used it? Would she have tried to shoot Thanatos then and there? On a different note, could his naive nature be used to her advantage?

Although she had only dialed it an hour before, Detective Mitsuru remembered Thanatos's phone number. She whipped a pen out of her pocket and quickly scribbled it down on the palm of her hand. Detective Mitsuru knew that this act would most likely cause Jonathan to have an issue with her if he ever caught a glimpse of it. But she would have some sort of explanation as to why it was written down. She would later have to record the number somewhere more permanent.

Detective Mitsuru smiled to herself. _If I'm lucky, _she thought,_ he'll take care of the Third Ascendancy problem for us. This just got interesting. _

Detective Mitsuru turned and headed home, where Jonathan was safe yet another day. Thanatos would get what was coming for him one way or another.

Colossian Military academy Rooftop: Meanwhile

Minato, switched out of Active Armor, lay on the rooftop of the academy building, and found himself staring at the moon.

Due to damage to the atmosphere from pollution, smog found its way into every Colossian's life one way or another. Usually, the smog obscured the sun or the moon, whichever was illuminating the sky. Only on occasional days in the summer were the skies half empty of clouds.

When night rolled in, the sky opened and streamed moonlight onto the school Minato once called his own. Minato found himself studying every last speck and crater of the moon's face as he glanced meaninglessly at the sky. He paused as he counted the fiftieth crater in the white rock above.

As the boy stared aimlessly into the night sky, he realized that the familiar white crescent was fighting a colossal cloud for space in the atmosphere. That almost never happened in Port Island, not with the given air quality. The smog almost always obscured everything in heaven.

Perhaps that was God's way of smiling on Minato.

_How long has it been since I could look at the moon like that?_ Minato wondered to himself.

"So now it's the black market?" asked Orpheus, once again appearing without warning.

"I had to make up something on the spot," Minato replied. "You got to admit, that was pretty elaborate."

Orpheus gave something similar to a chuckle. "Not bad. Most of it was true. But it's just one lie after the other, isn't it? You're getting good at this sort of thing."

"Yeah," Minato replied with a half hearted

"If you have to pull this stunt again, can we fabricate stories of explosions, death, and other unspeakable atrocities?"

Minato felt a twinge of guilt. Somehow lying about his true motives was not sitting well with his insides. "Can't we talk about this tomorrow?" Minato's conscience was kicking in and a seemingly endless pit formed in the bottom of his gut. "I'm not in the mood to discuss this."

Orpheus gave the closest thing it had to shrugging its shoulders, which curiously enough, did not involve shoulders. "Whatever. Is that what kids say these days, 'whatever'? It'll have to do. So, will you begin tomorrow?"

Minato paused in thought. Now that Orpheus mentioned it, he had almost forgotten what his main goal was.

The Third Ascendancy was definitely the biggest problem. The lesser grunts had the audacity to try assaulting his friends. They didn't do it out of spite or from official orders. They did it for kicks. If these were the lower ranked punks, surely the others were even worse. They had already violently taken over half of Port Island, what more damage could they do unwatched?

The atmosphere changed, and with it Minato's mood changed for the worse.

"One question, Orpheus," he asked.

"Yes?"

"Since you have been keeping tabs on me and I'm such a proactive guy, this means you've been keeping tabs on all government and antigovernment activity around the city, right?"

Orpheus gave the closest expression it had to an interested look. "Where are you going with this?"

"How many Turd hideouts do you think I can weed out in the next hour?"

Orpheus grinned, his monstrous jaw line even wider than before. "Let's find out."


	8. Chapter 7: The Demon is Born

**Hey there, Reader!**

Here's the last chapter I promised. As I mentioned before, there's a fight scene towards the end i'm still figuring out. We're nowhere near it, so stay tuned. (Assuming you guys love this spin on fanfiction :P)

Enjoy!

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**Chapter 7 The Demon is Born**

**Third Ascendancy underground facility: 11:58 PM**

Back in the day, guns were banned from certain countries due to the potential danger of uprisings.

To use a gun, one would simply have to load, aim, and pull the trigger. Once all three steps were completed, anyone could end up dead, even the gun wielder.

Although weaponry had improved so the gunner would not harm himself unintentionally, guns opened new possibilities for revolts, or even overthrowing governments. No matter how weapons change over time, the bottom line is that they will always grant the wielders the power to kill―in this case, with the simple pull of the trigger. Such a truth applies to all civilizations, even to the Thirds hiding within the walls of Port Island.

Inside a "government" building to the east, the antigovernment had new and improved guns to help its cause. The building was located near Old Port Island, the ruins of the city state that were burned down in the first Colossian-Era war. The ruins stood as a reminder to the horrors of total war, warding off any Colossians who wished to settle within 12 blocks. Whatever happened in the building would not be questioned, because there would be no civilians around to question what was happening.

The structure was built originally for constructing hover cars. But the manufacturers who previously owned the facility had run out of business due to the diminishing popularity of the hovering vehicle without any horizontal traction. Thus, they were more than willing to sell their building to the Third Ascendancy. As a reminder of the facility's history, large glass panels installed in the ceiling revealed the night sky to every person below. Originally intended to allow daylight into the factory, the glass barrier revealed only the masked moonlight high in the sky. To accommodate the dim illumination, floodlights radiated artificial daylight down below to make work easier.

From dusk 'til dawn, the assembly lines running through the building were always active. On these contraptions were exchangeable pieces for the latest firearms for the battlefield. At the lines were the factory's very own workers, who were promised their good health in exchange for service. By good health, the Third Ascendancy meant the workers' lives.

All the workers were once hover car manufacturers taken by force from their original employer. The original car company was disintegrated, and any authorities were stationed at least a mile from that area. There was no one who could save the forced workers from their oppressors.

Lord Jin Shirato, enigmatic leader for the cause, had come personally to oversee the work of his followers. He surveyed the workers around him. Along with the antigovernment leader was the head of the factory, Director Keisuke Simms, who was giving their guest a brief overview of the factory's progress. Behind him was the Neo-Lord's personal bodyguard, cloaked with a woolen mask and a bulky leather jacket. If one was to look closely at the collar of the jacket, that person would realize that the Third Ascendancy insignia was imprinted on it, serving as a beacon for fellow antigovernment members.

If a person was to glance at the two men, it would have been obvious that Jin was prepared to attend a Lord's ball with his fine suit and trimmed haircut. In contrast, Keisuke appeared to be dressed only for a street fight, armed with street clothes and a gun holstered to his thigh for all to see.

". . . already 4,000 guns ready for shipment, sir," said Keisuke, hastily following his superior through the factory.

"Good, very good," said Jin, his chiseled face held high to marvel at the work around him. "And when may we expect the last 100,000 guns to be ready?"

"They will be constructed within the month, sir."

Neo-Lord Jin raised his eyebrow quizzically at the director. "Within the month?" he asked. "And when exactly is that?"

"Once the remaining orders are finished, sir," said Keisuke, straightening himself so that he was almost as tall as his superior.

In the corners of his vision, Neo-Lord Jin saw the many Thirds standing guard on a raised metal platform running along the perimeter of the area, 7 meters above and around the assembly lines. Each guard was equipped with an assault rifle. None of them were authorized to kill in the midst of the Neo-Lord, but should there be defiance among the workers, the guards were authorized to make examples of the rebels. Jin frowned upon that form of brutal oppression, but these were necessary steps toward establishing the path Lord Ikutsuki had created so many years before.

This feud of Port Island was war. War meant sacrifice of both soldiers and civilians. This truth Neo-Lord Jin had accepted.

He paused in mid-step and sighed. "You told me that last month," said the Neo-Lord. "Back when you claimed to have furnished 250,000 guns. I believe you stated, 'Another month, and your shipment will be in.'"

Keisuke stuttered. "I apologize, but our workers were not trained to craft weapons. The rate of production is taking longer than anticipated."

"Longer than anticipated?" Neo-Lord Jin asked in disgust. "In case you haven't noticed, we have over 6,000 of our men out there, and they need these guns now!"

"S―sir, I've tried to get them to work faster, but they claim to be working as fast as they can!"

"Well you're not doing your job, are you?"

It was then that the Neo-Lord rubbed his temples. He inhaled deeply, or as much as the stuffy air in the cramped industrial facility would allow. The Neo-Lord paused for a moment and then issued a final statement.

"You have two weeks to craft those guns, or consider yourself fired." The Neo-Lord gave a bitter salute. "Until then."

The Neo-Lord then signaled for his bodyguard to follow him. Without any hint of emotion, the hired muscle followed his employer out of the factory and visible range of Keisuke.

The director sighed. Deep down, he knew that the guns needed to be mass produced for their soldiers throughout Port Island. The only limiting factor for them was the untrained workers at the assembly lines.

Director Keisuke cringed in silent anger. Violence was the best thing to satisfy his malice. The Thirds were happy to quench their thirst for others' pain if it meant they could unleash it. The forced labor population in the building was the first to face that anger. It was going to be one hell of a whipping when he finally blew off some steam.

He, nor any member of the antigovernment organization, could have predicted the new obstacle in their way. Out of the blue, the floodlights illuminating the building flickered.

Once.

Twice even.

Assembly lines started to move in jerking motions. The loud whirring of machine cooling fans slowed to complete stops. Computer monitors displaying statistics and rate of production even flickered. Consequently, the rate of hand assembly slowed. Forced workers and guards looked around, wondering what was happening.

Mutters emerged from the workers, wondering if this was some sort of test. Rumors hinted that this glitch was to see if anyone would panic and try to flee. Even the guards were getting nervous. Their questions were answered momentarily: The power was restored tenfold.

The floodlights ceased flickering but only to surge with power so brightly that everyone in the building mistook the ceiling for the sun. Assembly lines ran much faster than they had before the flickering lights. The machine cooling fans also ran much faster but blew winds nearly the equivalent of those in a gale storm. To top it off, the computer monitors stopped flickering, but all the color pixels turned green from the massive overdose of power. With all the commotion, it was only natural for the workers to drop everything and simply stare at the world going mad.

And then the machinery started breaking down. The assembly lines spewed great heaps of smoke and vaporized oil before catching on fire. The computer screens turned completely green as they oozed out liquefied LCD lights. The machine cooling fans spiraled out of control, eventually allowing the rotating fans to fly off and spiral toward the ceiling, shattering the glass. To make matters worse, the floodlights exploded, adding even more debris to the unnatural rain of glass. Already scared out of their skins, workers and guards alike used their arms to shield themselves from the rain.

Another moment of madness passed before everything gave out. Slowly, the workers and guards peeked out from their little barriers to observe the damage. The assembly lines were still on fire, the computer monitors dimmed faintly with green, and the machine cooling fans still rotated, even though there were no fans to spin. The vicinity was dense with the smell of burning metal, chemicals unknown, and fear in its purest form.

Director Keisuke was among the masses, just as scared as the people around him. He too observed the damage and wondered what had just happened. Did another generator just overload everything in the building? No, theirs was government-issued: This sort of thing would never happen under circumstances like that.

"What's that?" asked a voice from a higher platform.

Director Keisuke looked up and realized that the speaker was simply a guard observing from the platform. Eyes turned toward the guard and then toward the object he was pointing at. The new opening in the ceiling allowed the full moon to shine brilliantly into the facility. In the light, there were the many silhouettes of the workers. One shady figure stood out above all, catching the attention of guards and slaves alike. No one was looking at an object on the floor, but rather some_thing _right above them.

Death was perched on the ledge. It smiled with blue florescent eyes and grinning shark teeth.

"Shoot it!" the director shouted, drawing out his gun.

Immediately, the soldiers raised their guns and unloaded on the figure. To add to his frightening appearance, Thanatos jumped from his ledge like a bird ready to strike. He landed onto the platform with the Third Ascendancy guards. The platform bent under the newcomer's weight, creating a miniature droop in the middle of the metal framing. Although Thanatos was pelted with bullets upon landing, they felt no worse than bug bites. Insignificant bug bites even. These men were no match for him.

The viewers below saw a dimly lit figure visible only by the sparks made from ricocheting bullets and the blue lighting running alongside his body and mask. Thanatos grabbed the nearest guard by the neck and hip. The guards nearest to the newcomer stopped firing, fearing that they would accidentally shoot their comrade.

Thanatos surged with his hostage as a battering ram. The platform ran along the perimeter of the factory but was narrow enough to give the guards little room to escape. The platform was raised high enough for the Thirds to not even consider dropping down. In other words, Thanatos had an open track to plow through.

Bullets flew past the Thanatos's head as he ran over the other guards. The Thirds were either shoved into each other or toppled over the edge of their platform. When he had to round a corner, the newcomer simply dropped his ram and picked up another victim in the same manner. Like before, he plowed through the guards with just as much ease.

Director Keisuke watched in horror as his men were being depleted. Guards toppled like dominoes and shoved over the edge of the platform to the ground. This was insane; his guards were trained to kill, and the combined weight of those dozen was the weight of a hover car if not more. They were fighting one man, no _a demon, _and it was already dominating the battlefield.

In the chaos, a guard dropped to the floor and did not stir for a significant few seconds. Seeing the opportunity to strike back, a worker from the slaved masses ran u p to the nearest guards and drop kicked him as he was getting up. Shocked by this act, the slaves expected that fool to get shot immediately. However, the Third Ascendancy guards were too concerned with their invader to focus on their comrade.

It was then that the forced workers realized that the guards were not looking at them, and no one would try to stop them. With that unanimous realization, a new emotion emerged from the slaves: pure undaunted, bloodthirsty rage.

Following their comrade, other workers mobbed the falling guards. By this point, already 50 of the Thirds were dumped over the edge of the platform into the mob of 300, and Thanatos was more than halfway through running over the guards. In the midst of this chaos, the director suddenly realized that a full scale revolt was occurring. Already the noise was enough to shake up an entire street block.

Revolts always brought authorities.

_I can't let them catch me here!_

Director Keisuke pushed past the mob of oppressed workers to flee. Workers clawed at him. Grubby, greasy fingers and angry shouts drowned out the gunfire on the platform above. By the time he actually reached the exit, his shirt had been stained where it had not been ripped off. With haste, the director made a break for it.

Thanatos had already toppled all the guards when he witnessed their leader make his cowardly escape. He dumped his seventh human battering ram down below for the crowd to deal with. The mob was already prepared to beat the living daylights out of the fallen guard. The most barbaric feeling occurred to him: Vigilante justice was fun.

The toothy jaw line of Thanatos's mask curved into a predatory grin. "A guy could get used to this," he mused.

His brain, both the organic and machine parts, devised a method to capture the leader. Thanatos morphed his arm into a Terra cannon, braced himself for the tremendous recoil, and then fired at the opposite wall. The massive artillery shell easily pierced the thick fortification of the factory. Next, a cloud of dust and debris emerged, which soon cleared to reveal a large hole in the wall.

The hole revealed the building tops of the Colossian night. The buildings themselves were not lit, making the lights in the distance seem even brighter through the night. Thanatos recognized these lights as Colossian police force sirens. His job of apprehending the culprits was already half done. The forced workers could explain the rest. As far as he was concerned, this had been long a time coming for the Third Ascendancy.

Thanatos calculated the amount of effort needed to perform the job and then loaded another shot into Terra. Immediately, he pointed the massive gun behind him and jumped into the air. Thanatos's body was perfectly aligned with the hole, like an arrow perched in a bow. In this case, the springing force for Thanatos's flight was Terra's tremendous recoil.

Thanatos shot out like a rocket. The world passed like a blur from that brief rush. For 30 seconds, the city lights became shooting stars, the road transformed into a constantly moving track, and the full moon rushed even closer than it already was. In his ecstasy, Thanatos almost forgot to brace for impact into the building rooftop.

Reacting just in time, the vigilante made a maneuver that was a mix of shoulder roll and a movement similar to that of a flat stone skidding across water. Thanatos skidded across the rooftop as he braced for landing, only to find that he was quickly approaching the edge of the roof.

Allowing animalistic reflexes to kick in, he used his free hand to push himself off the rooftop, giving himself more hang time as he jumped to the next building top. In those brief milliseconds, Thanatos regained his balance and then turned right side up just in time for his toes to graze the solid concrete.

Thanatos then sprinted out in the direction of the Third Ascendancy leader. With enhanced speed, as well as vision on his side, the cowardly terrorist was located within three jumps between buildings. From what the vigilante could see, his target was running as fast as he could but also having a hard time maintaining his pace.

_He's getting tired._

At this time, Director Keisuke was breathing heavily. Luckily, the forced workers were too busy beating the other guards. There were no pedestrians or midnight drivers passing by to look at the pathetic escapee. For the time being, the director was all by himself.

He found himself in the middle of the road, right along the border of Old Port Island. To the director's left was Port Island's very own historical hollow of burnt out buildings and fields of ashes. This place was littered with debris of lost skyscrapers and memories of wars past. The sight was uncomfortable for the Colossians; a massive road barrier was installed to mark the site's borders, a warning for civilians not to cross. On his right was the east section of Port Island where a field of towering apartment buildings was moderately renovated to accommodate the brave souls who dared to live near the border. At this time, the few residents were already asleep.

Director Keisuke turned to see if anyone followed him. Looking back, there was only an empty street.

The director took a deep breath and felt somewhat relieved. Immediately, he realized that the gun assembly lines had been severely halted by this invader. The group of soldiers that were once at his disposal were already swarmed by the mob of former forced workers. That was when it hit Director Keisuke like a ton of bricks: Neo-Lord Jin would not be getting his shipment of guns. A chill ran down his spine. The situation could not get any worse.

Then something immensely heavy crashed into the pavement right behind the director.

The director stumbled in surprise, accidentally losing his balance. He fell face flat and then scampered belly up to try to see what had just happened. Even before seeing those blue eyes and sharp teeth, Director Keisuke had already realized that the invader had literally got the drop on him. He reached for his gun, grasping only at air. Keisuke had dropped his gun back at the factory. Now he was unarmed.

A cloud of powdered tar formed and then dissipated to reveal Thanatos. The director simply gawked at the demon, clad in a jacket littered with bullet holes that added to his inhuman aura. He snapped out of his trance of surprise, but Thanatos had already grabbed his ankle.

Thanatos dragged the director with him as he walked to the nearest building. Director Keisuke screamed, shouting prayers of mercy in a foreign language. The vigilante paid no attention. When he was close enough, Thanatos sprung up and scaled the wall of the building. Like a spider that captured its prey, Thanatos easily carried his catch as he ascended to the top of the building. Throughout the ride, the director continued his pleas. Thanatos had a headache by the time he had climbed over the edge of the roof. Once he firmly stood at the roof's edge, the vigilante held the Third over the edge, dangling by one leg.

"Who is your leader?" Thanatos inquired, using the most menacing and threatening voice he could muster. From the director's perspective, his dire situation was a waking nightmare.

"Oh, God, don't kill me!" shouted Director Keisuke.

"Don't tempt me," said Thanatos with a chuckle.

At this point, the director was crying. Streams of molten tears rolled down his forehead. Thanatos then noticed that the man was not trying to talk but wishing to be dead already.

Resorting to the next part of his interrogation, Thanatos stepped over the edge of building. The director screamed as he fell. The world flew by, wind rushed through their ears, and hell seemed even closer as the two of them approached the ground.

After 15 seconds of screaming for his life, the director yelled, _"I work for the Neo-Lord!"_

Thanatos jammed his free hand, as well as his feet, into the side of the building to get a firm grip. He skidded with the additional weight of his captive but then stopped ten meters from the ground.

"Keep talking," said Thanatos, playfully tightening his grip on the director's ankle.

Director Keisuke sniffed. "Neo-Lord Jin," he said. "He―he wanted me to make guns for the Third Ascendancy movement. S―said that it was gonna revolutionize Port Island."

Thanatos tightened his grip on Director Keisuke's ankle, forcing him to squirm in pain. "What is the movement?"

"I―it's a citywide uprising," said Keisuke. "W―we're gonna stash ourselves across the city, stock up on supplies, and then storm the Lord's tower and the streets when Neo-Lord Jin gives the go." Keisuke whimpered.

"I'm still listening."

The director continued. "He wanted 250,000 guns ready for distribution―said it was going to bring the movement to a close and give us the city."

Thanatos raised his mask's eyebrow quizzically. "Might I assume that you have pockets of Turds all around Port Island?"

"Turds?" Keisuke took a moment to understand the insult. "Y-yes."

Thanatos widened his grin. "Where can I find the next one of your hiding places?"

"C'mon man," Director Keisuke whimpered. "I just make firearms. I don't know anything!"

Thanatos sighed and then loosened his grip on the wall. Once more, the world rushed by. Engulfed in fear, as well as despair, the director screamed an address.

"_It's 1893 Brody Avenue!_"

Thanatos then skidded to a stop 5 meters from the ground. He looked at the terrified man.

"And you're sure of this?" the vigilante asked.

With a great sob, the director nodded.

Thanatos scoffed. "Sheesh, you're pathetic."

Thanatos swung his captive and then released his ankle. Director Keisuke screamed for a brief second before landing briskly on his back. From the wall, Thanatos watched the Third moan with mixed feelings of pain and relief. He then looked to the distance shimmering with sirens and lights. The Colossian police were almost here.

Thanatos started scaling the wall once more. "Did you get that, Orpheus?" he asked.

Orpheus appeared once more. "Yes," it replied. "To be honest, you're pretty scary when you're like this."

"If there's one thing I know about people . . . " Thanatos grunted as he jumped onto the top of the rooftop, "it's that they bend real easy when they're scared."

"Fear is a great motivator," said Orpheus.

Thanatos slipped off his bag. Thanks to its armor plating, the daypack survived the hellfire. The thing only snagged a bullet from the gunfight in its zipper. He plucked the bullet off, opened the bag, and then removed the hit list. The vigilante flipped the pages and then found the one with a brief description of the coward who he had just interrogated. He realized that these contacts were also involved in this movement fiasco cooked up by the Third Ascendancy.

With a grin, Thanatos stashed the hit list back in his bag. He could keep tabs on whoever he needed to interrogate.

"Yeah, something like that."

"So you are going to terrorize Port Island's most wanted criminals then?"

In Thanatos's head, the arrow pinpointed the direction of the next destination. "We'll see."

With that last note, the demon sprinted off into the night. Justice was coming to the Third Ascendancy, Thanatos would see to that.


	9. Chapter 8: Reconaissance

**Hey there, Reader!**

I decided to continue, since I started this story. There was no sense in ending it at chapter seven in my book, so I ended up translating more of it for you guys to read. Sorry for the wait.

Enjoy!

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**Chapter 8 Reconnaissance**

Neo-Lord Jin was not pleased at all.

A hellish three month period passed since a new vigilante appeared in his city. Thanatos, as his defeated men named him, struck hard and fast. The Neo-Lord couldn't put a finger as to why he would take up such a crusade. That armored punk was a nuisance all the same, so what did he care what his reasons were. The Third Republic's morale weakened with every Thanatos raid. And as it was, the Neo-Lord has one option left.

He walked with his bodyguard, Moros, walking close behind. Perhaps bodyguard wasn't the right term to describe his employee. Neo-Lord Jin's bodyguard was a frightening man in a felt mask. Not a centimeter of skin was exposed on him, so there was no telling what kind of man he was. He was certainly good at keeping his employer safe, but he displayed an intelligence that earned him a place in the Third Republic's Research and Development department.

This one was recommended to him by a reliable source, and from what the Neo-Lord observed, he was. Moros was also good with machines. And his latest pet project was ready.

"This machine better be worth our resources," said the Neo-Lord.

"It is, sir," said Moros. He produced a piece of paper with handwritten codes. "Read these when it asks for them. All data will be accepted audibly." The bodyguard opened a door for his boss. "This way."

Neo-Lord Jin entered and folded his arms. Moros closed the doors behind them. In the dead center of the room, a massive cylindrical machine stood encased in a tempered glass barrier. On top of it was an antique hologram projector, which was currently materializing the present time and date. Its outer shell was patched with mismatched metal tiling and soot. This contraption had thick multi polymer pipes protruding from its base, running along the ground from under the barrier and in all directions. From a distance, this machine seemed like a parasitic apparatus.

"Are you sure it's operational now, Moros?" asked the Neo-Lord. "I won't settle for anything less."

"Yes, sir," said Moros. "The Appraiser may speak to you now."

Neo-Lord Jin Jirato approached the machine. Its lights glew brighter and the hologram faded to a blank face. "I understand you're Artificial Intelligence, correct?"

A line materialized above the machine. "I am what I am," it said. The line waved up and down with each hum of noise flickered in the air. "And that is an Artificial Intelligence."

"Try to be punctual," said Moros. "The Appraiser replies best when the speaker keeps the questions simple."

"I am Neo-Lord Jin Jirato," he said. "I understand you were created by E. Co as a command hub for Gladiator Units?"

"You are right" said the Appraiser. "What do you require?"

"I want you to activate units from Project P," said Neo-Lord Jin. "Any you can scrounge up. There must be reserves of them around the city. And I want reinforcements for my army ASAP."

The screen displayed a series of numbers. "That is impossible," said the machine. "I see that you installed me to be able to broadcast my influence across Port Island. But I cannot reach the sufficient Gladiators you require."

"Why not?"

"Some are locked in specific vaults hidden outside the city limits," said the Appraiser. "I may give you coordinates to find these army caches, but they require Plasmite, a formula I do not know. To top it off, I require that the Personas be within close proximity of this building for me to synchronize them."

Neo-Lord Jin murmured to himself. He hoped conversing with a machine would be easy. For an Artificial Intelligence, it sure knew how to sound stalwart. Was it just him, or was this Appraiser challenging his patience?

"So even if we found these vaults," he said, "we still need Plasmite?

"Perhaps more of it could be replicated from a fresh sample," said the Appraiser. "Fresh blood from a live specimen."

"Are you suggesting that there is a live Gladiator out there?" asked the Neo-Lord.

Under his mask, Moros donned an exuberant expression. "There must be, if the Appraiser mentions it," he said.

"I do have access to your database, Neo-Lord," said the Appraiser. "And from what I gather, your Thanatos may just as well be the Persona we need."

"Our forces are exhausted from repelling him for so long," said the Neo-Lord. "I was hoping you could provide some form of help without us having to hunt down someone we can't fight."

The Appraiser chucked. Could machines be amused? The Neo-Lord shook the thought form his head.

"Perhaps there is one unit who may be available," said the machine. "And he is just a few kilometers from the building. If you will, allow me access to broadcast the activation signal."

Neo-Lord Jin remembered what Moros told him earlier. He picked out the piece of paper and read a string of letters and numbers aloud. The Appraiser listened and spelled out the code on its projector. They waited eagerly for news.

"The unit is on the way to apprehend Thanatos now," said the Appraiser.

"Good," said the Neo-Lord. "Well, I'll be off. Moros? Check to see if this machine's screws are loose. I feel like it could do with some fine-tuning."

The Neo-Lord left the room. Moros waited until he closed the door.

"He doesn't suspect a thing," he said.

"Poor meat bag," said the Appraiser.

* * *

Block 51 was once a highpoint in Old Port Island' prosperous days. As a result of the first Colossian-Era War, the area referred to as Old Port Island was set ablaze and burned to a crisp. What remained were the husks of former buildings and residential complexes, the only sign of life within the district. For a time, Block 51 remained the only building structurally intact within the area.

At least, that was how it should have been.

What remained of Block 51 was a field of rubble. From above, it appeared as though a landfill had been dug in the middle of Old Port Island and filled with chunks of concrete. Upon closer inspection, one would realize that this landfill was packed not with garbage but with chunks of rubble as well as rustic electrical equipment. Debris of all shapes and sizes filled a massive ditch that was once a basement, ranging from shards of lead piping to cement pieces the size of hover cars. To the naked eye, this place might as well have been a massive burial ground to whatever lay underneath its surface.

Block 51 remained as it was ever since it collapsed on itself, ruined. Temporary residents of Old Port Island, namely homeless Colossians who were seeking shelter nearby, witnessed the facility's last moments standing. According to eyewitness accounts, something in the building "combusted," engulfing the facility and eventually burning it to the ground.

The morning after the building was mysteriously demolished, the SIU was called in by Colossians to investigate. They found neither bodies nor incriminating evidence. It was almost as if any evidence of the culprit, whoever it might be, went up in flames with Block 51. The case ran cold, and Block 51 was left untouched ever since.

Now, if anyone was awake at this hour, that person might have found another anomaly occurring in that accursed block. Under the layers of debris, much farther than any man could ever dig, something awoke. It stirred from its sleep, churning the thick rubble that buried it. It opened its eyes, but no light streamed through its retinas. No clear thought emerged from that thing's mind, but there was one clear motive. It had to escape from its dark prison.

The thing immediately clawed in the direction it assumed was upward. Was it correct? Even the thing was not sure where it was going. It lost all sense of direction in that darkness. There was no distinct up or down, left or right. Now even remaining still seemed as though everything was in motion. Whatever the case, clawing was the best alternative that came to mind.

For an eternity, only darkness remained. No light was clear in the direction the thing was going. Soon, it became frustrated. It had little time left―the thing knew this for sure. If it remained in this void, its very existence would cease to be. With a final effort, it ripped through its dark barrier faster than before.

And then there was light.

The thing emerged from its prison, erupting from the field of debris that contained it for all this time. The first action it took in its new world was to simply stare. From what the thing recalled, it was originally taken residence in a much different area. It once lived in a place that was organized, clean, and . . . populated.

The thing scanned the area. Nothing resided as far as it could see― not a soul in sight. It was then that an answer to this dilemma occurred to it―the reason for its abandonment in this cold, deserted place. Where were its comrades? What happened to father? Who was responsible for this?

Anger arose within the thing. With a roar of both anguish and hatred, it spoke only once.

"Six!"

* * *

Lately, Minato felt more like a hero than he had three months earlier. The boy almost thought it was fun acting from justified violence. Practically every night since he made friends with the detective, Minato came barging into main Third Republic buildings with guns blazing. Everyone was struck with priceless expressions upon seeing Minato's Active Armor.

Minato ruthlessly pursued Third Republic bases to exploit their plots. In the meantime, crime rates drastically dropped. News broadcasts in the past mainly reported on Third Republic attacks. Now these reports had ceased to be. There were barely any stories about criminal activity as long as Thanatos was on the job. Third Republic territory dramatically shrank from half of Port Island to a mere ten percent.

Detective Mitsuru and Orpheus were really the ones to thank for the dropping crime rate. Somehow, Orpheus always had access to information concerning criminal activity before it even made the evening news. Orpheus then relayed the information to Minato, who would dash from rooftop to rooftop until he arrived at the scene to punch some dents in the Third Republic movement.

From witness sightings of Minato in Active Armor, the SIU would always be called in to investigate. Due to Mitsuru's effectiveness and charisma throughout the branch, her opinion tended to be the SIU's official opinion. In accordance to their alliance, she simply led the SIU down leads as to the identity of the Thanatos. The leads would prove to be false, but the SIU still had enough faith to unknowingly let her run them in circles.

All in all, playing the hero was getting fun. Minato could not remember the last time he had had as much fun as he did causing mayhem. He did not need much reason to weed them out. They were the bad guys, and he was the good guy. It was as simple as that.

Minato looked at the memory devices in his hand. He unearthed them a few nights ago in different places pocketed around Port Island. Minato was so busy causing mayhem that he put off viewing these devices before uprooting a few Third bases. It wasn't that he didn't care about his past life, but a vigilante had to have priorities. That meant that he would handle crime over going on a search for identity.

But there was that issue with the feedback. It came back again. Minato kept fine-tuning the dial behind his ear to ease the pain. It just kept coming on different frequencies, causing head-splitting headaches every time. Minato turned the dial compulsively every time he heard static, even when it was coming from a radio and not within his brain.

Orpheus kept insisting that Minato just tolerate the pain, but he was stubborn to listen. As far as he had seen, tuning the dial was the best way to work with the problem.

"You lack conviction if you can't handle a few headaches," said Orpheus.

The boy stuffed his memory devices into his pocket. "Says the voice in my head," said Minato.

"Don't get cute with me."

Orpheus could never read all of Minato's thoughts, thankfully. He openly asked what Minato was thinking if the boy wasn't talking. Minato found this very convenient, because he kept thinking about the life he left behind. That was a mundane and boring lifestyle, yet it had a comforting sense of serenity in the repetition of schoolyard antics. Not that Minato would give up his new lifestyle now, but he wished he could find his friends again.

On that note, Minato had no idea what Yukari was up to. He hadn't tried to find her after the skirmish in the alley. Minato just couldn't bring himself to find her after that. He made up the excuse that he just needed to control his powers, but that wasn't the real reason why he didn't reveal himself.

"What are you thinking?" asked Orpheus.

"I'm thinking about finding Yukari again," Minato replied.

"What for?"

"It's been three months," said Minato. "I know for a fact I won't switch to Active Armor on accident. And I think she'll be ready to see me like this."

"I think you like her," said Orpheus in a sing-song voice.

"So?" said Minato. "I think I'm ready now."

And then the feedback returned. Minato tweaked his dial once more. Minato perched himself on the corner of a roof. His arms bent and his legs behind, he almost looked like was going to perform a dive off of the building. He could do so without hassle. Minato made sure he wasn't too obvious and got comfortable. He picked up his phone and called Yukari's number. She picked up.

"Hello?" asked Yukari.

"Hey, Yukari," said Minato. "It's me, Minato. It's been a while."

She gave a sound that was both a gasp and a yelp. "No way," she said. "Is this… I'm sorry, I thought you said you were someone else."

"I'm serious," said Minato. "It's actually me. I'm back from the dead."

"This can't be happening," said Yukari. "I saw them drag you away. I was there when they told me you entered a comatose state…"

Yukari almost threatened to drivel in confusion, but Minato stopped her. "I know it's a big shock," he said, "but I can prove it's me. Are you still in your apartment?"

"Yeah, I am," said Yukari. "Why?"

"Maybe we could meet up," said Minato. He looked over the rooftop to a large clearing in the urban landscape. A large park with tents fortified on every square meter of the premises. "I see a circus in town. It's at the fairgrounds. I'll meet you at the Main Street entrance at seven."

"Alright," said Yukari, almost cautiously. "I swear, if this is some sick joke, I'm going to gouge your eyes out."

Minato laughed. "You still suck at making threats, Yukari," he said. She abruptly hung up. That was fine. He would have plenty of time to make up for being dead.

Minato looked at an open park surrounded by a sea of skyscrapers and black streets. To the left were the fairgrounds, which were hosting the world renowned circus, the Jackal Gentry. To the right was the Sim-Dec building. But Minato did not recall its state of bad publicity.

Long lines of eager participants used to stream out of its open doors. Whatever fiasco that occurred had given Sim-Dec a bad name. The once shining walls were splattered with graffiti and rotting fruit. The latter ranged from spray painted curses to metal crucifixes bolted to the outside, with four letter messages that nobody but madmen dared repeat.

"Did I cause that?" he mused.

Minato shook away the thought. He was going to meet Yukari here. As far as the boy was concerned, he was re-connecting to an old life. He was never going back, but perhaps he could invite someone else to be part of his new existence.

Minato had thought about the entire scenario―about how it would play out if everything went horribly wrong. Thanatos was a target for the Third Republic and he had to prepare for a possible ambush. Prior to the meeting, he simply thought about what the fairgrounds would look like. In response, the arrow replaced the vision in his eye with a three dimensional layout of the area, both above and below ground. Minato had stayed up all night and studied the layout of the fairgrounds and possible escape routes, which stretched into virtually all land-accessible directions. The terrain was level enough to make a quick sprint to the nearest hiding place.

After calculating all of the possibilities, Minato almost gave himself a heart attack. If he had been this smart at the academy, he might have aced his arithmetic classes.

It was nearing the crack of dawn already, and the morning smog was starting to lift. The sun rose over the urban jungle of a city state. As rays of sunlight and enhanced radiation streamed over the city, morning dew on the grass glistened brilliantly.

Minato had seen the caravan's shows many times in his youth. He also recalled the many cars that were used to store certain star acts: RVs labeled with faded chrome plaques dotted the landscape. Animal storage trucks were filled to nearly full capacity with creatures from all over the world. And even the few large carrier trucks held stunt vehicles of all types.

_Hope this place isn't too weird for Yukari, _Minato thought. He climbed down from his viewing perch and walked in.

Among the small sea of vehicles were burly men preparing for the day's upcoming events. In one direction, they carried off crates of numerous sizes and shapes. In another, they rushed electronic equipment to numerous stations to prepare for a laser light show. One or two of these working men would glance at the boy but would then just resume whatever they were doing beforehand. It was better this way: no questions, less hassles.

Minato stood at the entrance of the fairgrounds. He stared out into Main Street waiting for his friend to come through. He hoped no one would remember him as the kid who died at Sim-Dec, so he kept a hood up at all times. Waves of vehicles passed through the street. Minato kept his eyes peeled.

"Oh my God," said someone familiar.

Yukari caught him by surprise. She took a different route to the fair and ended up walking a road along the border of the fairgrounds. Minato didn't even notice her as she stared with open eyes at his face. He was almost exactly the same as when he "died." Black hair with white streaks, triangular indents below the eyes, and electric blue irises. This couldn't have been anyone else but Minato.

Minato jerked his head. He almost reverted back to Active Armor before he stopped himself. Yukari didn't appear to notice Minato's own surprise. She clung onto him as if he could fade away at a second's notice.

"Yukari," Minato began to say.

Then she slapped him across the face. It was a surprisingly strong. Minato cupped a growing red bruise over half his face and stared back flabbergasted.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she said. "I thought you were dead!"

"That makes two of us," said Minato. He massaged the red spreading across his face. "This is gonna be a lot to take in, so if you could just hear me out—"

Yukari slapped him again. She winced and flapped her hand in pain. "When did your face become a brick wall?" she said.

Minato kept caressing the slap mark. "Maybe if you let me explain, I could tell you!"

"Then do it," said Yukari. "I'm listening."

"I didn't want to be a jerk about it," said Minato with a sigh. "But I didn't tell you earlier because I changed."

"What does that mean?" asked Yukari.

Minato checked to see if anyone else was on the street. There was no one else besides him and his friend. Minato breathed and partially entered Active Armor. With his newfound control of his abilities, he could transform individual parts of his body rather than all of it at once. Minato rolled up a sleeve. He let Yukari see his hand transform into a black gauntlet.

"Oh my God," she asked.

"I turned into a superhero," said Minato. "Wow, that sounded corny. You ever hear of someone on the news taking down Thirds? That was me."

Yukari stared back with wide eyes "That was you?" she said. "Oh no. What happened to you?"

"I'll tell you on the way in," said Minato. He slowly led his friend farther into the fairgrounds. "Just be prepared to hear some weird stuff. And please don't slap me again."


	10. Chapter 9: Lifesaver

**Hey there, Reader!**

The blue screen of death is overpowered. Seriously. I couldn't use my computer for a while q.q

So here's a new chapter. There's more going on, so I anticipate more viewers (and more frequent readers.)

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 9 Lifesaver**

The two passed through the fair while Minato told his side to the story. He recapped his nightmarish revival into the morgue and the reveal of his new abilities. Minato left out the bit about seeing someone replace Yukari during the simulation, since it probably didn't mean anything. Yukari heard the whole story up to Minato's last raid on a Third Republic hideout. Their story brought them to the center of the grounds, next to a beaten fortune teller's cart.

"And the last one begged me to not eat his soul," said Minato with a laugh. "Can you believe that?"

Yukari found herself laughing. "I can't," she said. "Why in the world is this happening?"

"I was wondering that myself," said Minato. "I've been doing my own thing for three months now. And I thought I'd have some clue why all this is happening to me. I'm not complaining or anything, but I can't shake the feeling that at any moment, all of this could be gone in a flash."

"Drama queen," said Yukari.

"Oh yeah?" Minato folded his arms. "How do you think we got to this point? Because I don't have much of a clue."

Yukari took a moment to think. "I say it started with that pod," she said. "If a customer enters a Sim Pod, then the illusion occurs within his head. The technology they use involves tapping into the user's brain and implanting memories to create the simulation. Half of your brain is loaded with circuits, which is probably incompatible with Sim-Dec stuff."

"Hence the coma?" asked Minato. The unanswered questions were beckoning him to find the answers. "How bad was it?"

"The paramedics couldn't find your pulse," said Yukari. "You were rushed off to a hospital after that. Sim-Dec tried to prove none of its equipment was lethal, but nobody bought it after the incident."

Minato recalled the Sim-Dec building's state of disrepair. "Sheesh, all that for me?" he asked.

"I guess you 'flatlined' eventually," said Yukari.  
"But you came back to life, and here we are. Does all of that make sense?"

Minato recalled the bizarre dream and traumatic experience. Even now he felt the beast's threatening grip around his neck. "You have no idea."

"So why didn't you just give me a call then?" asked Yukari. "You couldn't just tell me you were alive over the phone?"

"I wasn't thinking," said Minato.

"That's no excuse, even for you," said Yukari. "Why wouldn't you try to think this through?"

Minato shrugged. "Maybe I didn't because I was still wrapping my mind around becoming a robot?"

Yukari rolled her eyes. "Lamest excuse ever."

"Like you could come up with something better," said Minato with a smirk.

"How are we going to break the news to Fuuka though?" said Yukari. "She's trying to hide the fact that your death rattled her up. She pretty much idolized you."

"I wouldn't put it like that," said Minato. "Don't you remember what we were talking about in Sim-Dec?"

"What were we talking about?" asked Yukari.

"We were on that ship in the middle of the ocean," said Minato.

"There was never a simulation," said Yukari. "It didn't even go off because you went into a coma."

The two stopped in their tracks. "So you don't remember anything?" asked Minato.

"Maybe something went on in your head," said Yukari. She became vividly curious. "Like a near-death experience you see in the movies. Did something happen?"

_Something happened in that simulation alright,_ Minato thought. Minato felt as though the scene with the boat and their embrace was too good to be true. There was no way was Yukari going to be so forward with her feelings, was she?

But there was a chance she actually felt the same he did.

"What is it?" asked Yukari.

Minato realized he was staring blankly into space. "No, it's nothing," he said. "I thought we had a pretty serious conversation in there."

"In Sim-Dec?" said Yukari. "I think I would have remembered that."

"I guess," said Minato. He became downcast. "I actually thought you had a thing for me. It's just me, right?"

There was an uncertain pause.

"Is it?" asked Minato.

Before Yukari was able to give a response, Minato's arrow flashed red. Something in Minato's head picked up something dangerous, and it was coming closer. Now accustomed to quick reflexes, he grabbed Yukari, reverted to Active Armor, and thrust the both of them to the side. It was an odd sight; two bodies were flying through the air and then crashed headfirst into the back of a pickup truck in their path.

A projectile from the sky fell, detonating right on top of the fortune teller's car and setting everything around it on fire.

In Active Armor, Minato took the blow from their crash instead of Yukari, who would have received a concussion or worse.

The shockwave rang through his helmet and down to the tips of his toes. His vision had stopped seeing blurred lights, and it was then that he saw what remained of the carriage. By now the wooden carriage had immediately been set aflame along with the two vehicles in front and behind it.

Thanatos looked down at his classmate. Yukari was alive and nervous. "You okay?" Thanatos asked.

Yukari looked up at the sky at whatever had dropped the bomb. Thanatos followed her stare and then saw something small flying in the air. From what he could tell, it was small enough to be a remote controlled, air strike fighter, but it was too big to be a flying bomber craft.

"Run!" Yukari shouted. "Now!"

Still following the superhero routine, Thanatos cradled Yukari in his left arm and used his right arm to morph into the Terra cannon. He then fired one massive shell at the figure. An instant after he fired his own projectile, the figure was replaced by a cloud of phosphorus and flames.

"Game over," Thanatos said to himself with a snicker.

The vigilante made a mild jog for the nearest plotted escape route. Suddenly, the arrow flashed red once more. A number of bullets pierced Thanatos's armor. His brain tingled with the familiar sensation of being hit with bullets. Thanatos usually felt no more than a tickle from eating bullets. But these hurt. Thanatos still had the nerve to turn and face what was assaulting him from behind. The attacker was aerial, and it was the same flying figure that had dropped the bomb before.

Thanatos broke into a backward run. He launched a new shell at the figure. The same burst of cannon fire erupted, but this time the figure darted to the side and then opened return rapid fire. Thanatos disliked the sensation of painful bullets, and he ran faster while loading another shot.

"You can't fight that thing!" Yukari shouted, mainly because she was the closest human who was blared by the sound of Terra firing off at close range.

"What the hell is it?" the vigilante shouted, shifting his free arm to morph into the Kaze shotgun.

"Does it matter?" asked Yukari. "It has more mobility over you! It'll just dodge your attacks!"

Ignoring the direct order, Thanatos kept trying to shoot the figure from a distance. Automatic mechanisms within his head would adjust his aim. Despite his use of assistance, he was missing his target.

Orpheus returned. It made an angry face at him. "I suggest you cooperate with Yukari," said Orpheus. "You're wasting time and ammunition."

After shooting and missing for the umpteenth time, Thanatos finally gave up. He turned completely and sprinted along the escape route. From that point on, he was the hunter being hunted. The figure from above swooped above until Thanatos was within range. More bullets pierced through the vigilante's Active Armor, dealing more damage with every blow. The figure continued to fire at them into the streets outside the fairgrounds.

The chase was both spectacular and horrible. Thanatos dashed through active streets filled with moving cars while a flying craft fired at him. As it continued its pursuit, it appeared to have no regard for anyone who was within the line of fire: Any bullets that did not hit Thanatos punched hundreds of holes into cars nearby. Thanatos was engulfed in genuine pain across his backside all the while.

Now that he was in a frenzy to run for his life, Thanatos became more aware of everything happening around him. He felt each individual hole punched through his armor and into the vulnerable parts within. But he also felt something warm and liquid dribbling over his torso. Thanatos saw that a number of bullet wounds were embedded in Yukari's side.

Yukari, as pale as a ghost, was not responsive. She was in too much shock to scream in pain. Minato was no expert, but he could only assume the medical severity of this situation. His head went to work to find some trick to get them both out of this mess. His little scheme would not be guaranteed to work, but it was his best shot.

Thanatos ran along Main Street and then morphed his free arm. His knuckles expanded into a circular shape, forming the mouth of a Gatling gun. The rest of the forearm morphed itself to accommodate the machine gun, growing a reaction chamber at the inner elbow. Once the morph was complete, Thanatos revved up the rotating barrels. He then dashed to the side of the street and ran down a narrow alley.

Thanatos looked behind him. The figure was following. Theoretically, it would have to slow down to make a turn. In that time, the figure was an easier target. Thanatos estimated where the figure was going to turn and then aimed the gun at the estimated area. It was coming closer and closer, and as soon as it slowed down the slightest bit . . .

It found itself finally pelted by weapon fire. The flying figure then appeared as though it was jolted with a thousand volts of electricity before it finally fell down, twitching as well as spewing electrical discharge from the kinks in its body. It came down belly down, landed on a passing hover cab, and crashed to the ground.

Thanatos stood with a smoking arm and dust settling at his feet. He then remembered the dying girl cradled in his arm. Thanatos checked Yukari's pulse once more. It was faint and irregular. Yukari was dying.

In accordance with his frantically working organic brain, Thanatos's artificial brain worked frantically. The two of them could not seek medical attention. That would attract too much attention, and Minato could not risk Yukari or himself being discovered by the Thirds. He was not a trained doctor, and he did not have enough first aid experience. But Minato had to at least stop the bleeding. The artificial brain decided the best possible location. Thanatos realized that he could not be picky.

"Hang in there, Yukari," he said, with his mind on a particular safe area.

As he dashed back down the alleyway, Thanatos completely ignored the flying figure had crashed through the ground. Had the vigilante not been in a critical situation, he might have taken a look at what was trying so hard to kill them. The boy might have discovered a clue to this catastrophe.

The flying figure that was trying to kill both its target and its companion was in the shape of a human―a human with a cybernetic body.

* * *

Fuuka was still asleep when there was a heavy tapping on the window.

She had one of many pleasant dreams. In every one, for some strange (and obvious) reason, she would be the damsel in distress. A foreign man in a tacky costume would be holding some sort of corny weapon, and then the seemingly invincible vigilante would swoop down from the sky and save the day.

The morning sunlight was just flowing in when the tapping occurred. After a good minute of heavy tapping, Fuuka finally woke up. Expecting to see maybe a blue jay, she stirred from her slumber and sat up. Instead, she saw a blood-splattered war helmet looking right at her.

Fuuka shrieked. She jumped out of bed and fell backward onto her floor. Luckily, there was a week's worth of laundry to break her fall. She almost tried to hide, but Fuuka realized who she was looking at.

"Oh my God," she almost squealed to herself, not understanding the vigilante's situation. Nevertheless, she opened the window.

"Is anyone home?" said Thanatos as he stepped in with something in his arm.

Fuuka stuttered a response as she closed the window behind him, feeling her face turn bright red. "Um, no one but us," she said. "My parents are on a business trip, and my brother . . . "

Fuuka then realized that Thanatos was splattered not with his own blood but by the blood of the thing in his arms. She then realized that he was carrying a dying Yukari Takeba.

"God," she almost whispered, covering her mouth with her hands.

"I need to use your bed," said Thanatos.

"We should get her to a hospital!" Fuuka exclaimed, turning to find her cell phone.

"They can't get here in time," said Thanatos, lying Yukari down on Fuuka's bed and grabbing pieces of laundry from the floor. "You've got to help me tend to her wounds."

Fuuka reactively pressing the keypad on her cell phone while looking at Yukari. There was a lot of blood, and Yukari was becoming deathly pale. From what little Fuuka knew from medical dramas, even a hover ambulance would not arrive in time. Fuuka then saw the numerous holes in Thanatos's back.

"You're bleeding . . . " she said.

"I ain't got time to bleed," said Thanatos.

"No, your blood's blue."

Thanatos was still tying the makeshift bandages onto Yukari. He swiped his hand over a bullet wound on his back. The tips of his fingers were stained with some sort of blue fluid. Inside his mind, oblivious to Fuuka, Thanatos heard Orpheus speak once more.

"It's likely that our messages are being tapped into," said Orpheus. "For now, don't discuss your whereabouts while I'm online."

"How do I stop the bleeding?" Thanatos asked out loud.

"Put pressure on the wound," suggested Fuuka, listening to an automated medic on the other end of the line.

"Use code name Vita," Orpheus commanded.

Thanatos remembered the weapon, Vita. According to the notebook, it was a projectile syringe gun filled with the same fluid running through Thanatos's body, a special formula called Plasmite that enhanced the lifespan of human cells. In small amounts, it could extend a person's lifespan. But an overdose would have the opposite effect.

"That's crazy," said Thanatos.

"No, it's standard first aid," replied Fuuka, still under the impression that Thanatos was talking to her.

Thanatos halfheartedly listened as he continued to wrap the bandages. Panic rattled his dwindling confidence. Every nerve in his brain begged him to stop and panic. Hide in a corner. Let the danger pass. Let his friend bleed the life out of her.

_She's gonna die._

"Now or never, boy," caressed Orpheus.

This was not the time to play victim. He shook his head as he made up his mind. "Fuuka," said Thanatos. "Hang up and get me some metal! Any metal in the apartment will do!"

Fuuka paused. "You know my name?"

Thanatos took a moment to look his former classmate in the eye. "Are you going to help me save your friend or not?" he shouted. "Metal now!"

The thunder of Thanatos's command rattled the girl to the core. Fuuka pressed the end button on her cell phone and ran out of the room. She dashed into the kitchen and opened the silverware drawer. After grabbing a handful of assorted knives, Fuuka ran back to her room. At this point, most of the makeshift bandages were wrapped around Yukari's wounds. The bleeding was not stopping.

"I've got the metal," said Fuuka, holding out the silverware.

Thanatos held out his open, right hand to receive the knives. "Put 'em here."

Fuuka hesitated. "You're operating on Yukari here!"

"I'm not lobotomizing your friend!" said Thanatos. "Just give me the metal!"

Fuuka set the knives in Thanatos's palm. The vigilante clenched a fist. Immediately, the silverware crumpled like paper and disappeared into Thanatos's palm.

Thanatos's arm shifted once more; his index and middle fingers elongated, while the rest of the hand receded back into his forearm. It produced a crossbow with a long needle and syringe in its holster. The weapon was spring loaded, using super polymer twine for propelling the projectile. Within the syringe was a small amount of blue Plasmite in its chamber.

Fuuka, absolutely frightened by the sight of a large needle, immediately turned away. A moment later, the sound of a demon's scream rang through the room. If the doors and windows had not been closed, everyone on that floor of the building might have heard the inhuman cry of pain.

The screaming subsided, and then silence. Fuuka turned back to see what happened. Yukari's chest rose and fell at a slower rate as she entered an eerily calm sleep. Thanatos kept his hand clamped on the bandage over her wounds. He finally released his hand when it looked like she was going to be alright.

"What did you do?" asked Fuuka.

"I just saved her life," said Thanatos. "At least I hope I did."

* * *

Hours passed, and the adrenaline began to diminish. Thanatos asked his friend to help him out with the gunshot wounds in his back. Fuuka wasn't entirely thrilled with the task, though she knew no one else could help.

He sat in a stool in the middle of the kitchen. Spots of Plasmite ran down his back and stained the tiled floor. Most of the bleeding had stopped an hour ago, but the vigilante was expecting more pain to come. He tightened his fist and clenched his jaw.

"Hold still," said Fuuka.

Fuuka stood behind him. She ignored the sight of bullet holes through Thanatos's once brazen armor. With steel pliers in one hand, Fuuka clamped onto a dark metal object impaled into the vigilante's back. They both cringed as the object was wrenched forcefully from his shell. Thanatos let out a sharp breath as the crushed bullet was jerked from his flesh. Fuuka dropped the thing onto the kitchen table.

"Almost done," she said.

"You said that fifteen minutes ago," he bitterly retorted.

"No, this time for sure."

"You said that _twenty_ minutes ago."

Thanatos glanced at the kitchen table, which was littered with heaps of crushed bullets. Plasmite coated every chunk of metal. Some wet pockets of the stuff were dripping onto the table and staining the wood with blue sickness.

"Sorry for the mess," said Thanatos.

Fuuka wrenched another bullet, he groaned softly. "Don't mention it," she tried to reply politely. Her response came out like a grunt instead of a complement.

"I've got to keep my mind off the pain," Thanatos commented. "Let's talk."

Fuuka wrenched another bullet. Thanatos gave a stifled breath. "Sorry!" Fuuka paused. "Talk? Um, sure. What do you want to talk about?"

A fresh surge of Plasmite surged from the new wound. Thanatos took another sharp breath. "How's life at home?" he asked.

"Not too bad," said Fuuka.

"Ah," Thanatos replied after drawing a sharp breath. "How's school then?

Fuuka shrugged. "Boring as usual. There's not much to talk about there."

"Hobbies?"

"Part time plumber, just like my brother."

Thanatos raised his eyebrow quizzically. "You have a brother?"

"Ted Alphonse," Fuuka replied. "He's also a full time woodshop contractor. He dropped out of college because the curriculum was too much for him to handle."

"Ow." Thanatos gave a slight wince of pain as Fuuka wrenched out another bullet mound. "Do you plan on going to college then?"

"Yeah," Fuuka replied, dropping the next crushed bullet on the kitchen table. "Maybe I'll be open to more opportunities in my future. I always wanted to be a journalist, be the first one on the scene and tell everyone the big cheese."

Thanatos chuckled. "You have a pretty good head start."

They continued the small procedure for a minute silence. A bubbling feeling welled within Fuuka, taunting her and tempting her to ask. There were so many things she wanted to say to Thanatos, about how he came that day and saved her and Yukari. Whenever she tried to speak about it, however, the words wouldn't come out.

Why couldn't she say it? She'd always fantasized about meeting Thanatos in person. Could she ask what she really wanted to ask?

Some part of her knew that asking would be a very bad idea. What if the answer was not what she expected? Did this man feel the same way about her as she did to him? Fuuka shrugged off the thought. The man needed medical attention right now.

_Then again,_ Fuuka thought,_ it wouldn't hurt for some small talk…_

She cleared her throat. "You know the girl you saved?" asked Fuuka. "Her name's Yukari. Yukari Takeba."

"Yeah?" Thanatos said, averting his gaze.

"I don't know how it happened," said Fuuka, "but she's not really the type to jump in front of a gun. She hates war, but can't keep a straight face. She likes people in general, but can't keep a serous conversation with anyone longer than a few seconds. She even dyes her hair every few days."

Another bullet was wrenched. The vigilante stifled yet another exclamation of pain. "Why does she do those things?" Thanatos said, trying to keep a polite conversation going.

"She doesn't see her parents enough," said Fuuka. "I know that she's missing something in her life. I don't know if its C―" Fuuka paused. "I mean, her late friend, but she wants to define herself, like she's got something to prove. She always put up a façade like she's the innocent girl, but in reality, she's lost. She's really lost."

A brief moment of silence passed. "I didn't know that," Thanatos paused in thought. "I really wish I had someone like you to begin with."

Fuuka flustered slightly, her face starting to blush. She wrenched another bullet at the wrong angle. Thanatos gave a sharp breath.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed.

"It's alright!" Thanatos attempted to reply through his pain. "So what about you? What's your story? If it's alright with you."

Fuuka paused. Should she explain her own situation? Fuuka unwittingly explained Yukari's story, why did she do that? Was it to keep Thanatos's mind off the pain? She thought against it, but would this bring more harm than good?

_Keep it simple, _she thought.

"My family's full of plumbers" she said. "Kind of our trademark. Low class job, I know, but it paid the bills. We lived in worse places than this apartment building, so we'd have to deal with vandals who didn't like us for our lineage."

"Pureblood Colossians have blonde or brown hair," Thanatos commented.

Fuuka unwittingly felt for the leather choker around her neck. She gave a slight laugh. "Well, 'pureblood' Colossians didn't take kindly to immigrants," she said. "We weren't welcome out here. And the damn Thirds are chock full of those dogmatist bigots."

Thanatos nodded. "Agreed."

"Then again," Fuuka continued. "I met a guy that changed my mind. His name was Minato. He didn't have the pureblood traits, but he definitely wasn't an immigrant like me. Yukari introduced him to me just a few days into the school year, but I didn't like him much at first. Tall posture, indignant pride, looked like he could take on the world. I almost thought he was a Third."

Thanatos gave a hesitant chuckle. "Sounds like a great guy," he said.

Fuuka wrenched another bullet, to which Thanatos grunted. "But there were other douches," she said. "A few stole my P.E. uniform and spray painted all over it. They were halfway through with it when Minato showed up."

"The self-righteous conqueror of the world?"

"He broke their fingers and pegged one with the spray paint can," said Fuuka. "It was funny as hell when I saw a pack of embarrassed thugs with purple hair walk into class the next day."

"And you like Minato?" Thanatos inquired.

Both glanced at each other for a moment, and then the vigilante realized that he crossed a sensitive line. Fuuka's face flustered for a moment, confused with herself. Her eyes started to water and her cheeks were starting to redden. Under the mask, Thanatos gulped.

There was a shuffling of gears. Both Fuuka and Thanatos turned their heads. The front door to the apartment clicked, and then the door swung wide open.

* * *

The entire SIU staff, which consisted of Colossian detectives, forensic experts, and other investigative personnel, was focused on a medium sized, wide screen hologram set.

Chief Roland crushed the half empty soda can in his hand. "Who the hell disclosed those pictures?" he shouted.. "Somebody find that photographer and bring him in!"

As the rest of the news report rolled on, 20 percent of the SIU members grabbed their coats, dashed out of the building, and headed for the Colossian News Broadcast building to demand information. The remaining 80 percent listened as the broadcast continued. After a good few minutes of discussing the damages, the hologram set clicked off. The SIU staff turned around to find that Chief Roland was holding the remote. He tossed in onto a nearby desk and folded his arms.

"The situation has gotten far worse than we could have ever imagined." Chief Roland rubbed his temples. "Mitsuru, what's your position on locating Thanatos?"

Detective Mitsuru stood among the mass of SIU members. "No solid leads yet, sir," she replied.

"For the time being, the Thanatos case is postponed," said Chief Roland. "I want you to lead a team of three other detectives and then go to the forensic lab with the flying shooter. Grill the eye witnesses for evidence, and make sure you have them keep quiet about this to the press. From the look of things, we're getting an invasion of comic book characters."

Chief Roland then picked up his coat and put it on. "All SIU members should suspend their current cases and partake in the new investigation. I expect a report from each and every one of you on your findings. Any questions before you all are dismissed?"

One member of the mass, an SIU intern, raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"If we're dealing with something that's not Thanatos . . . " said the intern, attempting to be as professional as possible. "Actually, it's _because_ we're dealing with something similar, what should we classify it as?"

Oddly enough, the question provoked some thought among the SIU. Murmurs arose, some about the intern being too much of a smartass. Suggestions started popping up. The few that were audible enough were the most ridiculous.

"How about Hypnos?" said Chief Roland. "Well, the public won't be hearing about this," Chief Roland said. "And every other name sounds stupid. So let's call our fly boy Hypnos. Since there is nothing left to discuss, you are all dismissed."

Detective Mitsuru, along with the rest of her team, retrieved their coats and exited the building. Oblivious to the others, Detective Mitsuru's mind raced with a single thought.

_What the hell was Thanatos doing at a time like this?_


	11. Chapter 10: Fragmented Recalling

**Hey there, Reader!**

Another update. Another chance to reel in new readers. Hope this finds an interested reader anywhere in the world.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 10 Fragmented Recalling**

Ken saw his girlfriend with a large pair of pliers sitting at the kitchen table with the most wanted vigilante in all of Port Island. He did not do so much as draw a breath before Fuuka said, "Close the door."

Comprehending the dangerous situation, Ken closed the door and bolted it behind him. "Are you out of your freaking mind?" he hissed. "You're aiding a wanted criminal!"

"Gee, thanks," said Thanatos.

"He's not doing anything wrong to us," Fuuka replied.

Ken then looked at the kitchen tabletop littered with crushed bullets. "What the hell?"

Thanatos winced as Fuuka yanked another crushed bullet from his back. "Long story short," he said. "I got shot at by heavy artillery, and your sister's friend was caught in the line of fire."

Fuuka dropped the crushed bullet in the growing pile on the tabletop. The watering in her eyes diminished and her face returned to a regular hue. "And you said he was just a madman," she taunted.

Ken sighed, setting down a suitcase that he had been carrying for the past few hours. He walked over. "So, the friend—where is she?"

Thanatos pointed to Fuuka's room. "In there resting. She lost a lot of blood."

Ken then noticed the crimson stains on the vigilante. "Is all of that crap on your armor your blood?"

"No, Yukari's."

Fuuka wrenched the last mound, and Thanatos winced. She dropped the crushed bullet onto the table and then wiped her forehead with her forearm. "That's the last one. God, how are we going to repair your armor?"

"I need more metal," said Thanatos.

Ken watched as Fuuka rummaged through the kitchen silverware drawer. She grabbed two handfuls of random spoons and forks and then presented them. Ken watched as Thanatos converted the metal with just the palms of his hands. The holes embedded in Thanatos's back meshed themselves back together, reconnecting broken ligaments and buffing out the heavy dents. Just like that, the holes patched themselves together with a fluid motion, much like water filling an empty bowl.

"How'd you do that?" Ken asked.

"Don't ask," said Thanatos. He then tried to stand upright but lost his balance and staggered.

Immediately, both Ken and Fuuka held him up. Ken then noticed that Thanatos's electric blue eyes appeared to be flickering like a dying light bulb. Both brother and sister set the vigilante back down on the chair.

"Why couldn't you have picked a lawyer as your hero?" asked Ted.

"If my mom and dad hear about this . . . " said Fuuka.

Ken held both his hands up, a signal for her to stop. "Forget it. I think they got more to worry about." Ken turned to Thanatos. "Do you need anything else?"

"More metal," said Thanatos.

Fuuka racked her brain. "I've got a bike that no one uses. Will that work?"

Thanatos nodded.

"It's in the broom closer, Ted," said Fuuka. "Can you bring it over here?"

Ted then headed for a closet and returned with an old bicycle with a busted chain and missing pedal. Just as before, Thanatos crushed it with his hands and compacted it. The remainders of bullet holes were mended together like the others. Only the wheels and handlebars of the bike were left intact on the floor.

Thanatos then let out a deep sigh. "Much better," he said. "Thanks."

"Name's Ken" he said, offering a handshake.

Thanatos accepted it. He gave a vague glance of recognition, but it passed quickly. "Nice to meet you Ken. So how are you able to get in the front door?"

"It wasn't locked."

"Wasn't locked…" Thanatos looked at Fuuka. "Were you expecting him?"

Fuuka gave a guilty glance. "Kinda," she said. "It's not like we're doing anything wrong,"

Ken scratched the back of his head. "This was kinda my apology night," he said. "I was treating her like crap for a while."

Thanatos suddenly remembered his friend mentioning a boyfriend who pushed everyone away. That was Ken, and they were all in the same room. He couldn't just expose his true identity just to say, "Nice to meet you!" given the circumstances. He just needed to play dumb.

"Never mind then," he said. "Sorry for barging in like this. We didn't have anywhere else to go."

Ken scoffed. "Believe me," he said. "Vigilante robots top the list of things you don't wanna find in an apartment."

Fuuka went to quickly wash her hands in the sink. "Understatement of the century," she said.

Thanatos then thought of something. "Is there cable?"

Ken walked to the kitchen counter and held up an ancient television remote. "Which channel?"

"News."

Ken opened a kitchen cabinet, which revealed a small antique television set. He turned it on. What the three of them saw was not what they expected: a blurred photograph of Thanatos dashing through Port Island with Yukari in his arms. The news channel hosts were already halfway through their breaking news report.

" . . . Taken by a local photographer who happened to be at the scene," said the anchorman. "His report, along with interviews with other Colossians, suggests this: Could we be experiencing a new form of Third Republic weaponry?"

A photograph of a blurred picture of the flying figure was presented on the television screen.

"This photograph was also taken by the very same local photographer," the anchorman continued. "This flying craft was in hot pursuit of the vigilante who calls himself Thanatos. During the chase, the flying craft opened fire on both the wanted fugitive and any pedestrian in the line of fire . . . "

At that point, no one was listening to the newscaster's report. Thanatos found the blurred figure most shocking. The figure looked like a flying, jungle green version of Thanatos with a jet engine installed in its back.

Ken turned off the television. Thanatos stood upright. Fuuka then moved forward to try to help him balance, but the vigilante refused assistance.

"I need to see the patient," said Thanatos. "And then I have to get out of here."

"Why do you have to leave?" Fuuka asked.

"The longer I stay here," he continued, "the bigger the chance that you two will be caught by the cops or the Thirds."

"But your injuries!" said Ken.

"They're gone," said Thanatos, lifting the jacket covering his back to reveal the sleek metal underneath. "I'll be fine. Just dispose of the other bullets." Thanatos then picked up a small handful of crushed bullets and stuffed them into his pocket.

"You were bleeding blue blood!" Fuuka exclaimed.

Thanatos looked her in the eye. Fuuka felt the intense stare of those unnatural blue eyes once more. "With all due respect," he said, "I'm leaving for you and your brother's safety."

The vigilante then walked with heavy steps toward Fuuka's room. "I need five minutes with her," said Thanatos. "After that, the patient is in your care until she makes a full recovery."

Without any further objections from brother or sister, Thanatos entered Fuuka's room and closed the door behind him. After a second's delay, Fuuka and Ken looked each other in the eye and knew what to do: They tiptoed to the door and eavesdropped on the conversation.

* * *

Minato reverted out of Active Armor and knelt at Yukari's bedside. The metallic mask dissipated from his true face, but Minato didn't notice the difference. The black hair streaked with white, the triangular indents at the corners of his eyes, and the same radiant electric blue eyes. Distinctive features that ostracized Minato from others. He knew that it was his own personality that kept him distant rather than his appearance. Not that he chose to look any different.

Taking off his mask didn't make much of a difference. No one would see him as an equal. A metallic mask couldn't hide who he really was. He couldn't believe himself to be a human either. He'd crossed that line a long time ago.

How did he expect to come eye to eye with someone ordinary and injured in crossfire?

Orpheus returned to Minato's vision. "Is something wrong?" it asked.

Minato examined Yukari. Evidently, using the Vita syringe did not kill her. Her skin appeared to have more color. Her bleeding had stopped immediately after she was given the shot of plasma. And her pulse had returned to a steady pace.

The Plasmite also sped up the recovery process. Already the bullet wounds were healing over. The bullets embedded in her arm had been corroded away by the plasma, so further medical attention was no longer necessary. However, Yukari's unconscious form appeared ill. Upon first glance, it looked as though she was feeling worse rather than better.

"I almost got her killed," Minato muttered to himself.

"And this surprises you?" asked Orpheus.

"How the hell was I supposed to know we were going to be attacked?" Minato inquired.

"You're a war machine," said Orpheus. "Fighting will revolve around you one way or another."

The boy sighed, dropping his face in his palms. "God, I should have run sooner."

If Minato could cry, he would have. As Orpheus had mentioned before, the only organic component that was in Minato's body was his brain; he did not come with tear ducts or the ability to feel that wrenching pain in his gut. The grief felt real enough though.

For the first time in months, seeing Yukari like this made Minato feel sick. How could he have missed the possibility of an attack, or the chance for other adversaries? How could he have failed to prevent the carnage from the fairgrounds and along that street?

Heroism was about saving people. Minato started this crusade partially for self-satisfaction, but became very invested in playing superhero. If he almost failed at his job, what was he then? He was careless, too careless. And that almost cost a life. Did he deserve to continue on with this charade? Minato almost wanted to have the ability to shoot himself if that was possible.

Yukari opened her eyes and saw her former classmate. "Y―you're here?" she asked. "What happened?"

Minato looked up. "We made it out," he said. "Barely."

It was then that he noticed something.  
What's wrong?" she asked.

"Your eyes are blue," said Minato. "They weren't like that before."

Yukari felt a sudden headache. "Why do I feel sick?" she asked.

"I had to give you an emergency transfusion," said Minato. "It's my version of blood, which barely saved your life. I think it altered your entire anatomy."

"And maybe her genetic code," said Orpheus.

Minato thought furiously about the exact symptoms of the Plasmite transfusion. But he shook these thoughts from his head. Yukari wasn't some specimen on a lab desk waiting for dissection. Why was he trying to observe the damage? It didn't matter if the damage was done.

"But you're going to be alright," said Minato, giving a reassuring smile. That was all he could do, smile and hide the guilt. He couldn't show weakness, not yet. Not in front of his friend.

Yukari wasn't convinced. "You look worried." she said.

"No, I'm fine," Minato lied. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I have a massive headache," said Yukari. "Anyways, what happened after we left the fairgrounds?"

Minato shifted uncomfortably in place. "I shot down that flyer," he said.

Yukari took a moment to take a deep breath, and gripped her head. "My head feels like it's splitting in two."

Minato paused. How was he supposed to explain that she almost bled to death? Was there a way he could explain his mistake without sounding like a fool? In all retrospect, he _was _a fool for picking a fight with the other machine, whatever it was.

"Think you'll be fine after some sleep?"

Yukari attempted to sit up, but then nausea kicked in. She staggered to lie back down, but Minato helped her lay her head back onto the pillow. "Sleep sounds good right about now," she replied.

Yukari then saw the numerous posters that covered the walls of the room. Pictures of boy bands and fallen rock stars plastered every face. To top it off, the smell of laundry and unused perfume intoxicated the air.

"Where am I?" she asked. "Not your room, right?"

"Uh, no," said Minato. "This is Fuuka's room."

Yukari crossed her eyebrows. "What the hell are we doing in Fuuka's room?"

A quick glance around made Minato realize just how many boy band posters were plastered on the walls. Besides the fanatic décor, the colors of pink and red seemed to be predominant shades of the room. Again Minato shifted in his seat. How would he explain this one? His face grew red.

"It's complicated," he said. "And this was the only place where the police wouldn't look. Fuuka and her brother are going to help nurse you back to health before you have to leave."

"And their parents are all right with this?"

"What they don't know won't hurt them."

Yukari paused for a moment, and then she silently scoffed at the statement. "Easy for you to say."

The two remained silent for a long time. Neither person was in the mood to begin small talk. Not to mention the circumstances made small talk very inappropriate.

"This isn't getting anywhere," said Orpheus. "I should explain what I know. Are you two done talking?"

Minato didn't reply.

"I'll take that as a yes," Orpheus continued. "You and one thousand subjects were part of a development plan dubbed Project _G. _It was one of the last E. Co projects conducted before the fall of Lord Petrellix."

As he listened to Orpheus's explanation, Minato unconsciously morphed his arms into Active Armor. Yukari noticed, but said nothing.

"You should go," said Orpheus. "You don't have much business here.

Minato slowly rose and picked up his knapsack that was lying in the corner of the room. "I'll be back," he said. "Can you hang on until I'm back?"

Yukari looked back. "Sure," she said. "You are coming back alive, right?"

Minato morphed into Active Armor completely. He opened the window. "That's the plan," he said.

As the boy swept out the window and scaled the building, Fuuka and Ted, eavesdropping from behind the door, were in a state of both shock and confusion. Apparently, Thanatos knew both Fuuka and Yukari perfectly and was on some sort of mission.

Fuuka knew that she had heard the vigilante's voice before, but . . . that was impossible. Minato should have been dead. He had been dead for months. The news had even confirmed it. The whole world flipped upside down in the past few hours, and Fuuka did not know what to think. She silently slipped from the doorway and didn't speak for the rest of the night.

Meanwhile, her new hero settledMinato sat on the roof of the Sunset Horizons Apartment building and remained in Active Armor. He didn't feel like changing into a human form just yet.

"I should have said more," said Minato.

"To that girl?" asked Orpheus. "What more could you say?"

"More than I actually did," said Minato. "But I couldn't think of anything else to say."

"Why do you care?" said Orpheus. "She's alive, and neither of you were caught or compromised. There's no baggage to weigh you down."

"It's called being human," said Minato. "And that means getting tense when someone you care about is in pain."

"Speaking of pain," said Orpheus, "how is your back?"

Minato then extracted one of the bullets from his pocket and looked at it. "These can actually hurt me," he said. "And the bullet wounds still sting. Why?"

"This is made of a material called super polymer," said Orpheus. "It is the same material that your entire skeletal frame consists of. If fired by a powerful gun, these could easily pierce your armor. Its molecular structure is too complex for you to convert into usable metal."

Minato stuffed the bullet back into his pocket. "You said there were a thousand just like me. What happened to them?"

Orpheus shrugged his nonexistent shoulders. "I think you would learn more when you see the evidence for yourself. You have a memory device, do you not?"

The boy patted down his pockets and produced a small handful of memory devices. He completely forgot about them in the course of the firefight. None were damaged thankfully. Perhaps he would learn more with a few minutes to breathe.

"Are all the answers in here?" said Minato.

"Just enough," said Orpheus. "Get to it."

Minato placed the first memory device against his forehead.

* * *

Minato was breathing heavily.

His lower body was morphed into Active Armor. He was running on a treadmill, which was forcing him to go at 14 mph. He was also in a mostly dark room. To his left was a one-way window, a large reflective panel that showed Minato's reflection.

Minato had whiskers of facial hair sprouting from his chin. His head was shaven with hair root stubble. Sweat beaded his face, and his heart felt as if it was going to give out at any moment.

"How are you feeling?" asked a static voice at the other end of the one-way mirror.

"Just―fine―don't―stop," said Minato between breaths.

"It has only been 10 minutes, and you were able to run 20 without breaking a sweat last week. Are you sure you want to continue with the trial?"

Finally out of breath, Minato regrettably nodded.

The treadmill stopped moving, and Minato stepped off and stumbled to a bench near the side of the wall, across from the one-way mirror. He picked up a water bottle and chugged the fluid down like a horse.

"Are you alright?" asked the voice.

Minato, still out of breath, nodded.

"I've been monitoring your heart rate. It appears as though your heart is getting weaker."

"I can do this," said Minato, forcing himself to stand upright. However, he quickly lost his temporary energy and collapsed back onto the bench.

"Your last plasma transfusion was just yesterday," said the static voice. "Your body can't take the strain."

"Turn it back on!" shouted Minato, stumbling back to the treadmill. Before actually stepping onto the device, his heart stopped beating, and then he collapsed face first on the ground. Fading voices of emergency medical assistance echoed in the distance.

Suddenly, Minato found himself on a hospital bed. There were bandages strapped along his torso and sections of his arms and waist. He looked to his left and saw a long, narrow tube connecting his arm to a blood bag full of blue plasma. To his right was the same man in a white coat as before―the one who had fished him out of the tank from the first memory.

"What happened?" he asked, feeling a headache taking hold.

"You went into cardiac arrest during the physical trial," said the doctor. "We had to replace your heart to save your life."

Minato glanced at the new bandages across his chest and scoffed. "How many organs can a guy lose in a lifetime?" he asked.

He reached for his chest but failed to grasp anything. Minato looked to his left and found a small table with a tiny locket on top. He grasped it and held it close to his heart. The doctor appeared surprised.

"What is it?" he asked.

Minato opened the locket but only so that he could see it. "Just a forgotten memory, one I couldn't live without." Minato then set the locket back on the small table.

"Do you still wish to continue with the project?"

"I don't have much to lose now."

"The new augmentations to your body are placing too much strain on your natural organs," said the doctor. "We will have to perform a number of medical transplants throughout your body. You're scheduled for another operation two days from now. The process will include completely integrating your system with Plasmite, along with replacing your skeletal structure and muscles with super polymer framework. However, the process must be done without sedatives, and the pain will be unlike anything you have felt during the other operations. Once more, we need your consent to do this."

The doctor picked up a clipboard with a legal consent form titled E. Co Industries and Development. Without further question, Minato picked up the clipboard, along with a pen attached to it, and signed the form. The doctor, with a hint of remorse, accepted it.

"Just hurry up and send me to hell. I'm dead as it is."

* * *

Minato was in Active Armor now.

He ran at 30 mph and this time through a jungle environment. The arrow was fully functional now, and it was guiding the boy through a dense environment of trees and brushes. The afternoon light was illuminating the forest, and bear traps were revealed to be littered among the leaves.

Minato darted this way and that, his feet just grazing the traps and causing them to spring just out of the reach of his toes. As he sprinted through the forest, he passed the numerous contraptions and kept following the arrow. He did not know where it led, but he knew what it would mean if he reached his destination.

A thin line had appeared in the vision of his left eye, and it would vibrate whenever the voice on the other line spoke. Aigis, the speaker, wired Minato directions.

"Thirty seconds from the destination," she said.

The arrow flashed red. Minato dodge rolled under a swinging log, which smashed through a large tree in its way. Minato jumped right back up and kept running. The react-and-dodge habit was now integrating with his other training. If he proved himself here, then he would be paving the way for a new line of peacekeepers in wars to come. He imagined the future flanks and brigades of hardcore soldiers like him fighting instead of the vulnerable Legionaries who were dying out on the battlefield. If he proved himself now, this project would prove to be a success. Most importantly, there would be a nearly no war casualties.

"You have arrived," said Aigis. "Defeat your opponent."

Minato skidded to a stop. He stood in a large clearing of trees and cement walls. The open area was littered with leaves and revealed tufts of dying grass underneath. As for the environment beyond, it was shrouded by thick branches and diming afternoon sunlight.

Another Persona model, a bulky one streaked with red and blue, sat cross legged across from Minato. It stood upright and morphed one of its arms to resemble that of a massive war hammer. The Persona used its other arm to detach the new war hammer and hold it. From the empty socket sprouted a new arm just as bulky as the previous one.

Minato, taking the hint, made two fists, which morphed his arms into twin blades with dagger tips sprouting from their sides. "Bring it, punk," Minato said.

The Personas dashed forward. The opponent swung the war hammer at Minato, who dodge rolled it and came up from behind. The hammer, with stunning momentum, snapped through the air with a loud cracking sound and made a full circle. Minato, not seeing the blow coming, was hit and thrown forcefully into the cement wall behind him.

His armor protected him enough to only damage the wall but shook him to his core. The Persona then charged after the boy with the war hammer swinging. Just in time, Minato ducked as the hammer punched a hole in the cement wall.

As he was down on the ground, Minato spun and kicked the bulky Persona under the feet. The opponent fell backward, dropping its weapon. Minato grabbed it, bringing it up to swing down. The Persona_, _not yet defeated, rolled as the hammer just missed its intended target. It then grabbed the shaft of the war hammer and pulled it in to bring Minato closer. From the momentum, the Persona side kicked Minato in the gut, forcing him to release the war hammer.

Minato was once again thrown back, and the Persona armed itself for another swing. Seeing out of only one eye was bad enough, but having both major dents in his skeletal frame and a massive headache were not helping the situation at all.

"Keep fighting," said Aigis.

As the war hammer was brought down upon Minato, he grabbed a handful of dead leaves and grass and threw them at the Persona_. _Stunned, the opponent slowed its swing ever so slightly and missed as Minato rolled out of the way. From where he sprung, Minato then drove his blades into the Persona's shoulders, creating a hiss of vaporized Plasmite and oil that spewed out from the new wounds. Minato's opponent gave a scream of pain and rage as it was forced to release its weapon.

As his opponent was stunned, Minato de-morphed his arms to grip the war hammer. The Persona turned to face its opponent, only to be smashed in the head by its own weapon. Its helmet was knocked off and tumbled to the ground. Without thought, Minato brought the hammer back and swung again, bashing his opponent's face once more. As Minato brought the hammer up for the final blow, he stopped dead at the sight before him.

The beaten face of another man was looking right at him, all covered in skin and trickles of Plasmite from multiple cuts.

Minato's moment of hesitation bought the Persona time to spring up and head butt the boy. Minato was knocked to the ground and dropped the war hammer. The Persona picked it up. Minato, no longer trying to fight, stared at his opponent. Giving an inhuman smile, it raised the war hammer.

The Persona's eyes dimmed and then faded to darkness. Immediately, it stopped in mid-swing, appearing more like a statue than an attacker. Aigis spoke.

"The test is over," said a static voice overhead.

Immediately, the open area shimmered like a mirage in the Wasteland. The wildlife and open sky melted away to reveal a wide, concrete room filled with numerous traps littered about. A large, metal door was on the other side of the room. Minato recognized it as the starting line for the course.

The door soon opened, and a team of scientists entered, along with Constructs, machines built for loading cargo on freight ships. Immediately, they propped Minato and his opponent upright and carried them out of the room.

"Did I pass?" Minato asked.

No one replied. An alternative answer could be heard, and he suddenly realized the true nature of his situation. Although it was distant, a voice appeared to be audible to him, evidently from the scientists monitoring him.

Down the hall, he heard a scientist's analysis.

". . . too emotionally attached. The Berserker Unit proved as a superior soldier. Decommission Appraiser Six and mind wipe the other. This man-machine project was a bust from the start."

* * *

It was nighttime. Minato was busy searching through numerous metallic cases. He picked out a small chip, and then looked at his right arm. He found a slot that seemed to fit perfectly, and he inserted the chip. There was a faint sound of high pitched whining when he did so. Then an image of a kind of fist flashed in front of his vision. Minato tried the fist, and his right arm morphed into the large gun classified as Terra.

Aigis appeared. "What do you think you are doing?" she asked.

"Nabbing what I can before I burn this place to the ground," replied Minato, repeating the same process with another chip.

"Why?"

"I was told that I would help eliminate future casualties in war," he said. "But Project G lied to me. People will be enslaved in horrible pain to fight on the front lines. People like me." Minato then tried another morph. This time his arm became the Kaze shotgun.

"What do you plan on doing when you're out of here?" asked Aigis.

"Dunno." Minato inserted another chip. "Live out in the country, I guess?"

"And what makes you think that you won't be pursued?"

Minato stopped midway as he was inserting another chip. "Stop asking me questions. I'm on a tight schedule as it is."

Another minute of inserting chips passed before a door began to open. Minato was too focused on inserting the chips to notice, but something else caught his attention.

"Unit Six!" it shouted. Minato quickly realized that this was his "doctor" who had just stumbled into the room. "Why are you out of your stasis tank?"

Minato instantly reverted to Active Armor and spoke freely for the first time in ages. "What's it look like, doc?"

The doctor extracted a small remote from his coat pocket. He pointed it at Minato and pressed the off switch . . . and Minato was unaffected.

"Surprised?" asked Minato. He dashed to the doctor and grabbed his neck with one hand. "I've taken the liberty of removing the kill switch program from my head. You aren't shutting me down."

The doctor realized that he could easily be killed and pried at the hand. "Please . . . " the doctor choked. "Have, mercy, please."

Minato, without much remorse, morphed his free hand into Eve. "I don't care." He then jammed the needle into the doctor's gut and injected the lethal Plasmite into his body.

The doctor spasmed and collapsed to the ground. He endured virtually every type of pain imaginable magnified tenfold, and his brain would shut down after an hour. Minato hoped that he would suffer for as long as possible. Minato not only knew the risks from researching the side effects of Plasmite, but he also drew from personal experience.

"He's a dead man," said Aigis.

Minato then grabbed the last chip and inserted it into the empty slot in his arm. "There's a 50 percent chance of that," he said. Minato picked up three spare tanks of Plasmite resting against the wall. "And providing he survives what I'm about to do, I guess he's got a 15 percent chance to live." Minato started walking out of the room, popping holes into the Plasmite tanks with his fingertips.

As he strolled along, Minato allowed streams of the substance to pour onto the floor.

"You're mad," said Aigis.

Minato continued to the front of the hallway, emptying the last of the Plasmite onto the floor. "I've been telling myself that for months now," he said.

He morphed his hand into a Rai Taser gun, sprouting two electrical prongs from his knuckles. Minato smashed it into the ground with the definite sound of thunder crashing. The Plasmite on the floor ignited, and it appeared as though the entire hallway had turned into an inferno. Newly born flames ate away the tiled flooring, and the walls quickly dried and disintegrated into ashes. Some of the Plasmite leaked through the doors in the hallway, which were also igniting rooms on fire.

"Better run," said Aigis.

Minato used his Terra cannon to blast a new hole in the ceiling and then jumped through the opening before the dust could clear. From there, he dashed down the upper level hallway following the arrow. Minato tucked and shot himself full force out of the window just in the nick of time. The Plasmite down below ignited, obliterating the entire lower level and the building supports and making the entire structure jump 3 meters off the ground. Just before the building hit the ground, Minato landed first, punching a small crater into the black tar at his feet. The earth shook with the full effect of gravity acting on the E. Co building, which now was practically destroyed after hitting the ground so hard.

Minato did not bother to look back as he made a break for the nearest alley. He was already attracting enough attention as it was.


End file.
